


Days At Sunny Publishing

by MintyBoi9966



Category: One Piece
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:47:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 50,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25407895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintyBoi9966/pseuds/MintyBoi9966
Summary: Welcome to Sunny Publishing, where our goal is a Queerer future for literature! Join Editor in chief Nico Robin and her team as she tries to keep the company afloat, while fighting with a promising team lead Nami for her own job as chief, and the nearly unmanageable, and ever fighting editors Sanji and Zoro.
Relationships: Franky/Nico Robin, Monkey D. Luffy & Portgas D. Ace & Sabo, Nami/Nefertari Vivi, Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 13
Kudos: 49





	1. Chapter 1

**The Promise of Storms**

_ Poem for _

_ Marimos and Cigarettes _

_ ~Storms come and go _

_ Some people weather them, some don't _

_ It's a sad simple truth _

_ And there is no beauty behind it, after it, or before it _

_ It is there, all of it,  _

_ in the steps you take through the rain _

_ And nowhere else~ _

The room was trashed again. The lamp now illuminating only the corner it had fallen in, its shade bent and torn, Sanji was at the window, ashtray on the sil, smoke wafting out into the Autumn night. The clouds were promising storms on the horizon. Zoro thought about the fight they’d just had. It’d felt like a storm. The blankets and sheets ripped from the bed. The half packed bag. The dozen or more hangers he’d broken pulling his clothes from Sanji’s closest… again. He was exhausted. He wanted to sink onto the bed. Take Sanji’s hand, pull him from the cloud of smoke. Go back to bed, sleep this fight off, pretend it was all fine in the morning as they had done a hundred times. And if they’d done it a hundred times they’d done it a thousand. Maybe if he did, tomorrow Sanji would bring him home Sake, and they’d talk it out again. Talk was the wrong word. Yelling match was a better fit. Screaming until the windows washed red and blue. It was luck that wasn't the case tonight. Maybe not all luck.

No it’d been much more civil, as they’re ‘Last nights’ tended to be. Zoro had said half a dozen things he regretted, and topped it off with a ‘if you don't like it i’ll leave’. And Sanji had stared at him with tearless eyes, an even voice, no shake in his hands. And he told Zoro to go. Never come back. He’d said it was over, for good. They didnt work and they never would.

Sanji had said he should’ve stuck to women.

Said Zoro was just a bad taste in his mouth.

That whatever love they’d shared was long dead, strangled to death like so many of Zoro’s shirts, gone loose at Sanji’s hands until their seams had bursted. Oh Zoro would kill to be back in those days. When a ripped shirt could bring out tears and apologies, and end the fight young. He knew he was staring. Hesitating which he never did. Sanji knew too. He was lighting another cigarette, not looking away from the stars, what little he could see. Zoro grabbed the bag’s strap, lifting it slowly over his shoulder, wondering if Sanji had any hesitation. If the threat of Zoro leaving was still a threat, or a relief. 

Would Sanji miss him? Would this time be held in some small miracle place in the mind where time never passed. After all, they had tried for something hadnt they?

Or would They become to each other those distant blurry memories of rage and anger that seemed silly later on?

Zoro turned, wiped a stray tear, felt his pride weaken. He swallowed, and faced the door. The part of him wanting to turn around died out when he saw the hole he’d punched in it. This was for the better. For both of them. He needed to run from Sanji. His hand stung, he had splinters. The first time that had ever happened Sanji had pulled them out. Kissed his knuckles. He could have used his other hand. But he deserved the pain. He used the injured hand, opening the door, the pain of dislocated knuckles apparent, humming a reminder to him.

He always left silently. They both did. It had been romantic once upon a time. He forgot how it started but he knew what it meant. You only said bye if you were leaving. Not if you would be back. He should say something. Maybe it’d hurt. Maybe he wanted it to hurt. Maybe he wanted to hurt Sanji, and didn't that just make him the worst. He wanted to be silent. Because he didn't want to say farewell.

Sanji leaned back, the movement stopping Zoro halfway out the door, but he didnt look back. Didnt dare hope of anything. The cigarette ashed out and the blonde was moving. Zoro pulled his last leg out. His chest was full of idiotic hope, but he still didnt turn. Would Sanji pull him back in? Would he start the sorrys?

“It’d do you well to figure out if you’re the monster, or the man.”

And then the door slammed. The lock audible. And the fury of a single blue orb broke the damn on Zoro’s tears. But he didnt sob. He stomped down the cheap apartment stairs, all three floors, out into the bracing winds. The rain soaking the sorry collection of shit he took. It wasn't half of it, and in rage he tossed it into the nearest trash can. He turned his phone off, checked the cash in his wallet, and made for a bar far away.

…

“Look man, you know we love you, and you have an open invitation to join the clot, but you really can't keep showing up like this.” Ace said from the bathroom doorway. He had a glass of water, and was offering it. Zoro took it, the room spun, and he found himself against the tub’s side, half the water on his pants. “Shit.” Ace was moving in, kneeling in front of Zoro, ripping a towel from nearby. “what happened to you?”

“Sanji said good-bye.” Zoro said. At least he tried. The seconds ticked by before Ace seemed to catch up. Zoro knew he had by the disgusting pity that took over his face. He hated pity.

“Maybe this is for the better.”

“Fuck you.” Zoro let his head dip onto the cooler tub. His head was hot. He dumped the remaining water over his forehead.

“I mean it Zoro. look at you. He ain't good for you, not if this is how it ends up.”

“He’s the best thing to happen to me, and i keep fucking it up.”

“He’s a drug to you.” Ace said, taking the glass from him. Punching his chest lightly. “Injects right there. Gets you high for a few weeks, months, but then what? You burn out. He burns out. Are you even making it to your work tomorrow?” Ace had stood at some point, the sink running.

“No.”

“I want you to move in. I'm off tomorrow. I’ll help you.” Ace was back, water in hand. Zoro swished, and flushed the toilet again. Drinking half the glass before he fell back again, his head thumping on the tub. He didn't feel the pain.

“What for? i told you i'm not joining your dogpile.”

“Because i don't like the idea of you living alone. And you shouldn't either. Not if it was bad enough you got drunk drunk. Let us keep an eye on you. Until you get yourself sorted yeah?”

“No.” Zoro hand a hand up, shaking as if it’d ward Ace off. The man only shook his head, and rose again. “I’m fine.”

“Right…” Ace gave him a severe once over. “I’ll let you sleep on it. I’m gonna go make up the couch.”

Zoro had called out in the morning, taking a ear beating that had both Luffy and Sabo with raised eyebrows. He was able to get off as Ace was planting breakfast on the table. Eggs, sausage, bacon, pancakes. Classic hangover breakfast. Zoro’s eyes fought with his stomach, deciding his appetite and he hoped his eyes would win. His forehead hit the table in defeat. He grabbed a slice of bacon and nibbled at it. He did his best to ignore the three sets of worry on him. But it was over when Ace set a pitcher of orange juice on the table, with more of a ‘thunk’ then he could have. The noise ached right at the front of Zoro’s head. He rubbed it. Raising himself from the table.

“Sabo, you’ll be home early right? Zoro decided to move in, think you could bring the truck by his place?”

“Oh he finally agreed! Good.” Luffy said grabbing another stack of pancakes.

“Wait- i haven-” Zoro tried

“Yeah. i’ll be over around three. Luffy, clean out the guest room before you leave today.”

“Alright.”

“I’m telling you i-” Zoro stopped as three sets of brows furrowed at him at the same time. He needed to think of something quick or he’d be stuck here. “I have a lease.”

“Break it.” Luffy shot out around a mouthful of pancakes.

“With what money?” Zoro argued. This was good. He could carve a way out yet.

“I imagine if you can keep your job, you can keep paying rent. After all we aren't asking for money.” Sabo input. Zoro felt his pride fall a bit more. Ace laid a kiss at the blonde’s temple, and set about his own breakfast, popping the first sausage into his mouth with a challenging look to Zoro, almost begging him to try something else. He could try. Fall onto his ancestors' pride, and dig in his heels, refuse the generosity. Then his phone pinged and he remembered the scathing, barely veiled threats of termination. He might well need a place. His teeth clenched, forcing him to grind it out, bitter, and feeling pathetic.

“Thank you.”

“Does this mean you’re-”

“No!” Zoro said, fixing a glare on the youngest of the three, watching the man sink back from where he was half ready to tackle Zoro. Once upon a time in a very different phase of his life Zoro had thought about clotting up. That had been… ruinous for many of his friendships. He would never risk these three to that.

“Man…” Luffy was pouting. Sabo was laughing, Ace was shaking his head. Zoro just ached. Closed his eyes. His phone beeped again. He should check it. More than likely it was work. He didn't want work to exist. He didn't want anything to exist. Just him, no light that hurt his eyes, no pain in his head like pressure he wanted to relieve. The regret in his heart. His phone chimed yet again. He felt guilty now too. That was most likely the author. He pulled it out, and Ace snatched it.

“You called out, sure as hell I'm not letting you answer them.” Zoro looked around, finding only Luffy. Sabo emerged from one of the two bedrooms, dressed in a fitted suit, blue. Their hair was different. Sabo’s was curly, Sanji’s was long, silky. And Sanji wore ties, not the cavats Sabo had, making him look from another century. He planted quick kisses on both the mens heads as he passed, his slightly heeled shoes clacking on the wood floor.

“Feel better Zoro, listen to Ace, he knows what he’s talking about, most of the time.”

“Punk ass-” Ace was turning but the door closed, Zoro catching a sly smile on the blonde as he left. “-yeah, you better run.” Ace grumbled.

“Where does he work anyway?” Zoro asked, once again setting his head on the table. It was nice. Cool.

“He’s a sex-worker, i thought we told you?” Ace asked.

“Yeah but it was christmas last year.” Luffy chimed in.

“Ah, that's right. Well, yeah, he does fantasy scenarios. The oil baron thing is his niche.”

“For good reason.” Luffy had glassy eyes, his mind obviously elsewhere.

“Luf.” Zoro prompted. “Keep it to yourself.” Zoro could tell when Luffy wanted to explain something, the look of awe, the excitement. Topic was unimportant. Luffy smirked, shrugged.

“Your loss.” he said, setting about the remnants of breakfast. Zoro decided he should make a real attempt at eating. Before Ace’s cooking went to waste. He managed a single pancake from the pile, and eggs. They were good, and he ate them carefully slow. But he couldn't help but compare it to Sanji’s. And in the shadow of Sanji’s cooking… something was missing.

They got off the bus just across the street from the depot store by Zoro’s apartement. And they got lucky with the crosswalk. He was following Ace, because Ace always knew what to do. He’d kept the clot together through more storms than they’d had winters combined. All while doing it, gone fighting fires half the time. Ace pushed the cart towards him, and started leading it from the front. 

“How do you keep so calm?” Zoro asked, watching Ace gather boxes, and tape, crossing them off his little list.

“About what?” He was tugging the cart again, not even looking back.

“You’re the most jealous person I know. With Luffy and Sabo? And with Sabo’s work, how do you-?”

“Lists.” Ace flashed him a smile.

“But really.”

“Stop Zoro. What you think you’re doing is asking for advice, what you're actually doing is digging for chinks in the armour. And you know what, you are always going to find them. We arent perfect… but just look at this.” Ace pulled out his wallet, an old worn paper. It was offered to Zoro. he took it carefully unfolding it. It was the three of their names written at the top, next to a number one. At number two were more names, including Zoro and a few of the friends he knew, number three was a mess of things, from people, to goals, to foods, and down it went to number five. At five there were things like, ‘good credit’ ‘new sheets’ and so on. “I made that list when Sabo told me and Luffy where he worked. I was… Luffy was fine somehow. But it shook me. I made that list, filled it with everything that was important to me. Tried to make it all make sense. And I realized along the line that I had no time for my worries. I loved Sabo, and nowhere on my list of priorities was my jealousy. Certainly not above us.”

Zoro smiled. He handed the list back, watching the man fold it carefully, sliding back behind a picture of the three of them.

“That’s… disgustingly sweet.” Zoro let his smile turn sly, the frustration on Ace’s face too amusing. He took the hand upside his head, wincing as his hangover reminded him of its existence. He really shouldn't drink that much.

“It is.” Ace ground out, yanking on the cart. 

“Do you all carry a list like that around?” Zoro smirked harder as Ace went red. He shouldn't tease him so much. He was being so helpful. But the curiosity was too strong this time. “Where’s meat rank on Luffy’s list?” 

Ace slouched a bit. “Third. I got it down from second place on his fourth draft.”

“Really? Maybe you should have left it.”

“Did you really want to be on the same level as a steak?” Ace gave him piercing side eye. Zoro huffed, rubbing his neck.

“Thanks.” he mumbled looking away. Ace hummed, moving down another aisle, eyeing his list.

…

“This one already seems worse than the last. And it's already fall. Their books are February releases.” Nami had entered, without knocking again. Robin set the manuscript she was reviewing down. She supposed her top team manager could get away with things like that, and helping herself to the tea in the corner, and sitting down. 

“Sanji has come in.” She said, looking out through the half closed blinds to where the man was, a unlit cigarette in his lips, messed hair, and his reading glasses low. He’d only started needing those this year. Remarkable endurance for this line of work. Nami didn't come without cause though. And Robin wouldn’t be the editor in chief if she thought attendance was enough.

“His edits are sloppy. He is already behind, I mean this novel is still in copy editing. And I had to take over the editing for Zoro’s author today, at least  _ she _ is willing to work. I don't think the boys can make the deadline this time.”

“Well we can't possibly postpone them. The first quarter always depends on them and their authors debut books both broke records.”

“I know.” Nami had a hand up, bringing it down to Robin's desk. “But Sanji won't even talk about the fight. We may need to pull them off the books.”

“Oh?” Robin leaned back. “Who would edit them? You?” 

“Me? no. I struggle enough with romance in this world. Like hell I'm going through the process with both of their books. But we have the skill in house to get the books out on time. And as much as they might suffer from not having Zoro and Sanji, they’ll surely suffer more having those two on task during this… whatever it is they do.” 

“You have good points Nami. I’ll give it serious consideration. But for now I'll let this play out a bit more. There is still a chance that this is just another fight.”

Nami didn't look at all convinced. And indeed she might have the right to. Robin looked back to Sanji. Not unlike the poor man she needed glasses to read. But her far-sight was fine. Great. Which is why she could see the tears he didn't let fall. His eyes desperately trying to read the same line again and again. 

“I’ll take him to lunch. While i'm out, take a look at this.” She passed the manuscript, the only one they’d had mailed in all year. Another of the old ways slowly dying off. She gathered her purse from the seat Nami propped a foot on as she leaned back.

“Nefertari, V? Never heard of them.” She had the first pages flipped, reading with interest.

“I trust you’ll guard the office while I'm out?” Robin asked, and Nami had the decency to look a little apologetic. It was no secret where Nami’s ambitions lay.

“You can count on me, chief.” Robin nodded, glancing once in the mirror. Not missing the way Nami leaned forward, turning another page. Oh yes, one day Nami would take Robin's throne. But by the looks of it she had just bought herself another year, at least. She smirked, walking out with a confidant stride surveying the four teams she managed.

“Sanji, grab your things, we're going to lunch.” she was moving for the elevator.

“Ah, Robin, I'm honoured, but perhaps it's better if I take my lunch here. The manu-”

“I have to take my car to the mechanic again. You wouldnt let me go alone would you?” she asked with a sweet smile, watching him hide his exhaust, rising like a gentleman, forced a smile that was just a touch thinner than after most fights. Oh dear, Nami was right.

“I know you don't really need me here.” Sanji said half an hour later, pausing, fork half to his mouth with their chinese lunch speared on. “I know you come here for the-”

“Shall we both talk about our relationships and or the lack of such?” she asked, eying the eccentric mechanic, who cast her glances while dealing with the customer before her. Sanji slumbed a bit more, and ate his chicken. “Plenty of us are worried about you Sanji. You know i'm here to talk. Though i understand if i'm not the most… experienced person you know, for such matters.” he shrugged.

“There's nothing to talk about really. Like i told Nami, just like every other time. Except…” Sanji shook his head, stuffing more of his lunch away.

“So something is different.” she prodded.

“Nothing, just a stupid ritual.”

“In our line of work, is it not all about the stupid rituals?” she winced, that’d ripped his heart out. She hadnt meant to do that. He dropped his next bite back into the red box. “I'm sorry, that's was-”

“Don't be.” He gave her a smile, turning away fast. “It was a good bye of sorts. A real one. A last one.”

“I see.” she let her own lunch rest in her lap. “I'm sorry to hear that.”

“Really, don't be. Like i said, it was a stupid ritual, a promise of doing it all over again and expecting a different result. Breaking the patterns is the first step out right?” 

“That's right.” She met his questioning eyes with her best comforting smile. Sanji said nothing more. Content with the answer and leaning back. Eyeing his lunch with disdain. “Thank you for coming Sanji.” She had his eyes again. “I know you don't have to come. I trust them here, truth be told I bring you along for my own nerves. It's one of the best parts about you. You make everyone feel safe.” she saw a genuine smile on his lips. Small, delicate, yes, but there none the less.

“Thank you, that means a lot.” 

She answered him with her own smile. And heard a car drive off.

“Well, well, well, another project huh Robin?” The Mechanic had a hand on the rust bucket she’d drove in. Squealing brakes, old tires, bad paint. Who knew what else in the engine and undercarriage. “Looks like it’ll take a few weeks.”

A few weeks. That would do. She rose, moving to the car with keys. 

“Weeks huh? I’ll need updates.” she passed him the keys. He took them, slowly, smiling at her with a familiar grin.

“Did you get a phone yet?” Franky asked, his hand lingering over hers for a few seconds longer than they needed to. 

“I'm afraid not.”

“Well you’re always free to drop by, to check on the car of course.” she felt her spirits lift.

“I might have a lot of questions, I could be around for a while, that wouldn't bother you?” 

He unlocked the door, smirking at her as he settled into the car. 

“I can work and talk.”

Sanji made a noise from behind them. She ignored it, watching Franky drive her newest project into the shop proper. Normally she’d follow him up, bug him about a million things. See if she could make him blush today. But she returned to her seat. 

“We’ll have to uber back.” she said, picking up her own food, watching carefully to see if Franky had any disappointment on his face as he unloaded from the car. She couldn't spot any. He still had the same confidant grin as he looked around and found her.

“Nothing new.” Sanji mumbled. “Who got the last car?” 

“Hachi’s kid. Just started college.” she said out, watching the new project car getting raised up. It’d take weeks. That was good. A start. But it wouldn't last. None of the cars ever did.

“That explains his good mood this morning. Have you and the blue man ever had a real conversation?” Robin made to reply, but Sanji held up a clarifying hand. “Not about cars.” he had on a playful smile.

“What of it?” She looked away, denying the flush in her cheeks. “I'm satisfied with that.” Sanji shrugged. “What?” 

He fished a smoke from his pocket, and she noted that the wind had changed, blowing it away from her as he lit up. 

“I'm in no place to say anything. Just find it funny, the things you recognize.”

“Like what?” he shrugged again

“Little rituals.” 

…

“No, not by this year, the author is too rough for that. I doubt they brought this to more then two sets of eyes before submitting it. And there won't be any glory in crushing the boys this year anyways.”

“Oh, why's that?” Usopp asked from her leg, the tattoo gun in his hand humming. He was focusing hard on his linework for this piece. She felt a thrill of excitement race up her spine. This would be a good one. Then she remembered his question and scowled. 

“They broke up again or something.”

“Another fight.”

“Yeah, but something is definitely off. Even my boss thought so. She took Sanji out to lunch. She claims she didn't get much out of him. But i think that's more to keep me from pulling them. Either way their book quality is gonna drop. It's the worst time too, we cleared them both for trilogies, and this is the second book on both sets. A drop now dooms sales next year. But that works to my favor. If they don't get their shit together this year, then next year i’ll be the god damn hero with a real seller. This book man, gold, I cried like a little girl.”

“That's why you wanted color.” Usopp smirked, switching his needle and ink. “Need some toughening up?”

“What of it.” she asked, flaunting her fresh shaved sides, and the new earring Usopp had put in not too long ago.

“Nothing of it but a thank you from my bank account,” he said, and the gun stung again on her skin. “Hope you like blue.”

“I do. They got that blue stripe through the big bills now. Looks good.” she said out, Usopp laughed. “Also I have a question for you, what kind of name is Nefertari?”

“Exotic, and old. What's the guy's first name?” 

“Didnt sign with one, just V.”

“ _ Victor Nefertari _ ” Usopp said out dramatically, “Rising author reveals himself to be a stumbling fool, thanks his outrageous success to Editor in chief on the rise, Nami Bellemere!” he echoed her last name, his voice rising as if chanted by thousands from a stadium.

“Working hard for that tip today.” she teased. He gave her a straight deadpan face.

“Damn right, it's a hustle every day.”

She laughed, slapping his shoulder, and he just grinned wide and looked back at her leg. 

“Alright, tell me what you think. Be honest, it's kinda a new style. I was thinking about the story while I was doing it, hit a vibe, so I just went with it.”

She looked in the mirror he had, perfectly reflecting the scene. Hard lines cutting into her skin, the golden portrait cut clean, revealing a soft dessert, and a wonderful blue sky. It was like a little portal into the world.

“I know its not line work persay but-”

“Clouds.”

“Huh?”

“Give it the promise of rain. And it's perfect.” she met his eyes, saw his inspired smile, he gave her a nod, moving for his whites. But he hesitated before starting again

“If I do this, it’ll be fanart. You’ll have an obligation to make sure it doesn't bomb.”

“I see… Perfection  _ would _ require no less.” They stared each-other down. He searched her soul and she joined him. They nodded at the same time. “I require no less than perfection.”

“The pact is sealed.”

It was a war mark now. She was betting her pride on this novel. Shit… she’d need to bribe it off of Robin. She looked back at the tattoo. That was going to be expensive. She grabbed her phone and set a daily reminder to not be so impulsive.

She wore capris the next day, and bribed maintenance to get the key for the thermostat. It was always too cold, and there was no way she was covering this leg in slacks. The chafing was terrible, and the fresh ink had her feeling rather confident. She had just finished bumping the temperature past seventy when she heard the clack of the chief's heels.

“My my Nami, what marvelous work.” Robin had her head tilted to look at the clear-bandaged leg. She was fanning herself with the manuscript. “What inspired such a…  _ passionate _ piece of Usopp’s work?”

“Just what are you really.” Nami asked, widening her stance, head up.

“An assassin.” Nami gulped. Robin came forward, slowly. “Really Nami, don't look so concerned, you can have this one.” She offered it over. “A favour...” Nami took it, eyeing Robin with unreserved suspicion.

“A favour huh.”

“Nami.” Robin looked around, but Nami knew she only did it for show. They were always the first two in. she was just reminding her. “Chin up. You started this little war at the christmas party, i'm just playing along. And really, marvelous work. I hear the author’s a bright young  _ woman _ .”

“A what?” Nami turned, Robin had disappeared, she’d just shouted into Zoro’s face. He scowled down at her. “Gods you look terrible, have you been sleeping at all?” he groaned, pushing past her. “You’re author called, I covered your ass yesterday, a thank you would be nice.”

“Ace packed me lunch, it's yours.” he said, sinking into his seat. He thrust the paper bag up.

“Oh, you didn't clot up did you?” he glared at her, hard. She threw her hands up.

“Keep the lunch damn, sorry.” she tried to walk past him, but he grabbed her. Thrusting a couple of oni giri into her free hand.

“Thank you. And good luck, cause that tattoo is bland as fuck if you bomb this.”

“Wrong hill to fight on grass ass.” They knocked their arms and she went and sat at her desk, unwrapping one of the rice balls. “But seriously, kept on top of this book, if our teams numbers look bad under my management it’ll push my career back.”

“Don't you have a meeting to set?” He asked, donning his reading glasses. The only pair he owned that weren't adorned by something of Sanji’s design. The only pair that he had to adjust every two pages.

Right. She did. She flipped the manuscript back to the first page. There was a mailing address, an email address, and a phone number. Okay, no points for designating a preferred method. She’d mailed it in. That’d take forever. She should just call. It was still industry standard right? Well… maybe email? But when would she check it? If she was the kind of person to mail something they might be stuck typing this out on a library computer-

She flipped the pages, it wasn't printed… This was hand written. That would be alot of work… but the script, the hand writing, it was beautiful. Nami bit her lip. She cast a glance in the rearview she’d taped to her monitor, seeing Robin with a knowing smile through the blinds. The chief raised her coffee cup.

Nami shook herself out. She was out of sorts today. This was just first contact.

What was she getting so flustered for? She had the power of the internet, she could just stalk the woman real quick and figure this out. Probably find a mess of links to blogs with other work she could research. Her phone buzzed halfway through typing the name. She grabbed it expecting a call, but found a reminder.

_ ‘Stop being so damn impulsive’ _

She looked back at the search bar. She turned off the monitor, grudgingly grabbing some letter paper and an old fountain pen. She uncapped the pen and shook out her hand, giving another look at the elegant script. Time to see what she remembered of calligraphy. 

She finally got her own cup of coffee while she waited for the same-day courier. She was glad she had not sealed it. She read back over it, twice, pen at hand analysing every part of it.

“Here to collect an outbound?” 

“For me Chopper, over here.” Nami waved her hand, folding the letter back into thirds, and licking the envelope seal. She ran her own card on his payment rig, and gave the kid a ten from her splurge jar. Also known as the late-draft tax. The kid ran off, thanking her profusely for the tip. If all went well she would have a meeting set. At least, she would by the time the woman's reply came. She sat back in her chair. She had more work, more books and authors that she had to check progress on. Appointments to keep. She looked back towards the elevators, wishing that snail mail was faster.


	2. Landfall

**Landfall**

_ Poem for _

_ Shadows and Fires _

_ ~Whether you are a drop of rain, _

_ Or a spot of dirt, _

_ You suffer the impact. _

_ The binding touch of destiny. _

_ And from there, _

_ Things get muddy~ _

Nami didn't like the look of the clouds. It would storm tonight that was for sure. She eased the throttle of her sports bike, leaning into the wind as she turned, and tailed the truck in front of her, coasting in its tire wake. The rain was bad enough. And if these storms were the start of the season she might just have to switch to the bug she kept around. She turned off, finding the agreed upon coffee shop. She released her throttle entirely, coasting around the curbs and the one exiting minivan. She slid into a space, kicked out the stand, and set her legs down, staring through her helmet into the shop. She closed her eyes, gripping the handles hard.

“Alright, you’re not going to mess this up. You’ll be professional, helpful, the perfect editor. She won't even be your type. Yeah.” Nami released the handles, cracking her neck. “This won't be another ‘tales of coyoshi’ bomb. No flirting, just work.” she took a deep breath, and dismounted her bike, pulling on the retractable tarp Robin had gifted her for her last birthday, easily pulling it from the tail, over her seat and handlebars, magnet clipping it to her front wheel. She removed her helmet, shaking out her hair in the sudden wind.

No need for helmet head. She made for the shop, realizing after entering that she’d only told this V. Nefertari what she would be wearing, and had no idea what the woman looked like. She unzipped her leather jacket, proudly showing her Sunny Publishing shirt, with its golden lion logo, its mane a pride rainbow. She looked around. No one seemed overly interested, certainly no one waving her down. Maybe she’d been early?

She double checked after she’d ordered her coffee and snack, finding one empty table with a unmistakeable tower of paper on it, a sandwich half eaten. She got closer, confirming her suspension that one, she was not the first here, and two, the woman had hand written two copies of the manuscript… insane. 

“You must be Nami.” She jumped, spinning so fast she flung spray from her helmet onto the woman's dress. Her very pretty, very expensive looking Bliaut. Nami gasped. The dress was white, a golden tassel belt wrapped around her middle, 3/4th sleeves that had excess enough to reach mid-thigh on the sleeve droop, even as the woman's hands crossed her chest blocking the water.

“I'm so sorry!” Nami called, reaching for the woman's unused napkins and gently patting at the dress, trying not to notice how it clung around the woman's slim waist.

“Its fine, really, it didn't get much.” the woman laughed like a fairy, grabbing at Nami’s hands with a softness she had been long without. Nami pulled back, finally seeing the woman's face, and her long dyed blue hair braided and decorated with golden ribbons. She looked like a princess, with sandy skin, smooth, like the woman had never suffered a zit in her life. Nami was speechless. This was the woman she had spent a hundred dollars writing back and forth with over the last week. The one who wrote letters, and novels by hand. The woman was smiling. Oh, she had dimples. Adorable dimples…

“I'm so screwed…”

The woman cocked her head, the smile and dimples replaced by a look of concern. “I'm sorry?”

Nami flushed, she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Nothing.” she tried to wave it off, and then waved at the seats. “Please let's sit, i'm glad we got this meeting set up so quickly-!” they hadn't. It’d taken a week, most new authors took three days to get a meeting once Nami had decided to purchase the book.

“Me as well, i was surprised to receive anything on my first submission.”

“Publishing houses are notorious for rejection.” Nami said. This was good, she could slip into work mode. “Do you have any prior experience with publishing?”

“I'm afraid not. I know what a hassle that must be, getting a complete newbie.” she was back to having a kind smile, fiddling with the pages of her book, just as nervous as Nami felt.

“Not at all. The hardest part will be transferring the paper to a computer. Do you own a computer?” Nami had to ask, but that dress was expensive, it was definitely from a speciality shop. Nami knew that much just from work. They got enough bad romance through Sunny, all of it spending hours describing the clothing. It could be mood setting, or era setting yes, if the reader knew the difference between the roman style, and the much more popular french models. Or in the way that this Nefertari used the clothes. For instance Bilaut’s were typically worn with just a undershirt, warm, doubly warm in the fall, often floor length, but with two of three handfuls pushed up while she was on a table, there would be nothing between Nami and-

“I do. Oh, mailing it in must have been strange.”

Nami faced out the window, begging her blush to go away. She had really just been thinking about that. Here with the client across the table. She feigned a cough, hoping that was enough of an excuse, and took off her riding gloves.

“No, well, it did catch our eye. Not many people mail in manuscripts, much less hand written ones. Truly more impressive than anything else… but had we been a traditional publisher, you might not have been considered.”

“Then i'm double lucky that it found its way to your desk!” 

“Oh, uh…” Nami smiled and rubbed her neck, she was really screwed… Robin must have known. She should have just googled her. “Really, it's no problem. Aside from being the lead publisher for the LGBTQ community, we are also a small enough publisher to offer the occasional developmental editing. Have you-?” She stopped, seeing the woman blushing, and looking at Nami’s shirt. “Did you… not know that?” Nami tried.

The girl shook her head. Not entirely strange. The novel was about two male lovers. Originally Nami assumed a male writer, as it was fitting for the publisher. But this made more sense. Nami felt herself relax. This woman had stumbled upon the gaydom by chance. If she was straight, that solved a lot of problems for Nami. She extended her hand.

“I'm sorry, I jumped right into business, I'm Nami, head editor for the romance division.”

“Vivi, a lost fawn apparently.” the woman laughed. A wonderful sound. Nami grit her teeth. She was straight, let it go. They shook hands.

“Vivi.” Nami tried it. And nodded. “Alright Miss Vivi, have you ever heard of developmental editing?”

Another shake of her head.

“That's fine, it's just a big picture look at the novel as a whole, and i think it's the right place for us to start, basically me and you will do our best to understand the story, combining my experience and your vision.”

“Alright, that seems doable.” Vivi looked excited, and Nami opened her backpack, pulling out her copy of the manuscript, as well as the legal pad she had full of notes. Lots and lots of notes. Vivi looked less excited when she saw that. A total virgin.

Beginner. A total beginner…

“It can be a little daunting at first.” Nami said, and her drink was dropped off along with her sandwich. “But we aren't on a strict timeline, at least yet, so we can go at your speed, and if you have any questions ask them.” Nami paused, leaving an opening for any questions. Vivi asked none, and had a look of concentration, her eyes only on Nami, the dark brown eyes filled with determination. 

“A basic overview of the full process typically from the quality the work is at now to publication is around two years. Are you ready to put in a commitment of that size to this?” 

“That long? It sounds like a adventure.”

Nami laughed at the innocent statement, realizing too late that she had been serious. And now the blue haired princess look-alike was giving her a confused half smile.

“I'm sorry, excuse me.” Nami waved a hand, and grabbed for her coffee. “I'm sorry to say editing is more of a ‘face to the grindstone’ situation.”

“Then we will just do our best to make it fun!” Her voice was sweet. “Will I always be working with the same editor?”

“Typically.” Nami gauged her reaction closely. But she had a poker face of a smile. “Of course if you wanted, you can request a change at any point.”

“I doubt I'll have any need for that.” She said quickly. Nami’s chest fluttered and she reminded herself, once more, that this woman was likely straighter than an arrow. And already she had no shortage of male attention in the shop, just by the dress she wore, and the flawless face, with cheekbones so sharp they-

Nami sipped her coffee, tipping her head back so she blocked out her view of Vivi, desperate to regain her senses. She said she had a computer. It might be wise to conduct the majority of their work through the faceless internet, where she couldn’t day-dream and get lost in those sweet welcoming eyes, Or distracted by her long neck, which plummeted into the sweetheart neckline showing ample-

Dammit…

“Are you okay?” her voice was concerned, her head cocked again, and Nami tried a smile, and grabbed for her sandwich. 

“Yeah just, famished. I haven't eaten all day.”

Another lie. Sanji had made the office his famous shredded pork pot with homemade buns. She took a large bite, and prepared to hate her scale later.

She chewed fast, and looked back over her work. She flipped to an empty page, clicked a pen out.

“Let's start with what you think of the story, did you have a deeper meaning you wanted to weave into it or-?”

She’d promised the meeting would only be an hour. It’d been three and they were finally packing up. The rain had gotten worse, and Nami spied the newest model phone in the woman's hand as she texted for her ride. Nami paid for their drinks, because that was custom for the publishing house, and she’d said as much when Vivi had protested. But Nami wouldn’t deny the little thrill it gave her. Mainly because she was still trying to strangle out that part of her. She zipped her bag, slinging it and grabbed her helmet, three paces behind Vivi as she exited. 

Vivi was waiting under the overhang, the rain worse now, and Nami guessed that the tiny purse of Vivi’s didn't have an umbrella. Her bike was around the corner, but she stood next to Vivi.

“Is it alright if i wait with you?”

“Another excellent business practice?” 

“This one is just me.” Nami admitted, Joining Vivi in staring out at the cars speeding by. “I have a bike, so the longer I wait out the rain, the better.”

“I see.” Vivi gave her a curious smile. “Is it fun to ride?”

Nami stopped, the offer of a ride dying on her tongue. Definitely inappropriate to offer that to a client.

“I enjoy it. Most of my coworkers call me crazy for it.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“Sure, like anything though. If you have the right gear, you’ll be fine.” Nami hefted her helmet. Vivi didn't care for it, she was focused on the jacket, her hand running along the leather, down her arm, grabbing at the bicep. Nami flexed, more in shock than anything, glad she had gym days with Zoro, so at least there was something there. 

“Strong… durable.” Vivi said, lifting the arm, both hands feeling at the glove, fingers running over the knuckle guards. Nami bit her lip. Authors were a dozen kinds of weird. This was just... research, tactile description research. Still made the butterflies go crazy. Vivi had brought the captured hand closer to her face, looking at it in detail. Itd be easy, Nami could move the hand, brush the lock of stray hair that had escaped sometime around Koza’s motivation review, and bugged her ever since. Push it behind Vivi’s ear, and if she blushed Nami would dive in. Steal a kiss and damn her career. She would have too, had her phone not chimed off her now  _ twice _ daily reminder.

Vivi seemed equally shocked, releasing her hand quickly, and Nami dug her phone out, using the expensive glove’s fingertip to swipe off the reminder.

“I hope that wasn't work, mad that I kept you so late.”

“No, not at all.” Nami smiled. “Just a reminder to not be impulsive.” she looked back at the phone. She’d almost kissed her. She had almost just gone and done it. This wasn't good.

“Arent impulses the purest of our wants and needs though? Free of that pesky logic, and the norms of the world?” Vivi was looking at her with that dimpled smile again. And she was close. Half an arm away. Nami could smell her perfume, an intoxicating mix of floral notes. She wanted to step in. Just to see what Vivi would do. But that's only what she told herself. One step without reaction and she’d be brushing the hair away, and then who knew what would follow. No one.

“In my experience-” She leaned back a bit, adjusting her footing to look less at Vivi and more at the road, stealing a few inches of distance. “Impulses are just as ruinous and they are fortuitous.”

“Then they are a gamble, nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

“Well when you put it like that.” Nami said out, her foot turning, ready to carry her on this wave of impulse that shouted with every hormone in her body to close this distance, fix the hair, and kiss the woman dammit!

But a car pulled up. And not just any car. A fully customized, top of the line Galley-La. Nami’s jaw dropped.

“This is me. It was nice meeting you Nami. I look forward to working with you, and I promise to get this typed up as soon as possible!” 

Nami took the hand, shaking it, still dazed. She watched the girl speed walk to the car, using her waterproof folder as an umbrella. The door opened automatically, and she caught just the faintest hit of a man, exoctic with deep skin and a proud nose. They drove off in glory, and Nami was thankful it had showed up when it did. It had saved her a colossal amount of embarrassment. She put her helmet on, turning the corner and looking at her bike, a Galley-La model a dozen years old. Sunny didnt pay alot. Enough to keep it tuned up, and to afford her top line safety gear. Even then she could afford that only because she rented a tiny studio in the shitty part of town.

She kicked off the magnets, and the tarp auto retracted in the blink of an eye. She swung onto her bike, letting her head drop, her helmet catching between the handlebars arresting her fall. The man seemed a bit older then Vivi. Maybe a sugar daddy? Nami would saddle up with a millionaire too. At least this way it’d be easier to crush the lingering hope.

…

Zoro set the phone down and started to close out his tabs. Finishing that, he pushed back, grabbed his bag from under his desk, and slid in the fresh printed chapters.

“Nami, I'm heading out to a meeting with an author.” he rose.

“You shouldn’t have-’ he flashed her the white folder he had placed his chapters in. the special binder he had for ‘The Greatest Swordsman’ work. “Be safe.”

“Always.” he muttered, and grabbed his jacket.

“Oi,” Sanji gave him a glare, coming from the break room, lifting a plastic bag.

Her dumplings. Her favorite food. And Sanji always had them in stock at the work fridge. Zoro swallowed, reminded himself that this was Sanji, making a gesture on a woman’s behalf. No endearment for him. He took the bag.

“Thanks.” he muttered. He got no reply, and he left it there. A week wasn't enough time. Every word the man said had Zoro’s rapt attention. Needlessly attentive to every gesture Sanji made. Zoro could laugh at himself for how pathetic it all seemed, knowing Sanji probably wasn't going through any of this. He’d always been the one better at keeping composed. On top of his own shit.

Zoro met the bracing winds and ice rain, his jacket was thick and water proof. It was also one Sanji had bought him last year. He hated how warm it was. How dry it kept him. But he didn't have any other coat. He’d need to buy a new one soon. He got paid next week. He’d do it then. He double checked his phone to the license plate then waved the car down, easily sliding into the back.

“Mr. Roronoa?” 

“That's me.”

“Going to Merry General?”

“Yeah.” Zoro was already looking out the window. The same confirmation every time, regardless of driver. The Sunny disappeared to a row of other buildings and streets. Dead trees and sad storefronts blurry by in a gray haze. Always gray. At least this one didn't try to talk, asking all sorts of questions, most of which had bad answers that’d make Zoro have to either dance around them, or make it uncomfortable for both of them by answering.

Sanji would have driven him had it been another day. Zoro rolled his eyes at himself and leaned back. He needed to break the habit of comparing every moment to one with Sanji. It was over. Done. Final. He needed to get over it. What was that saying, you needed a week for every month you were together? Was that for consecutive months? Or all together? Did the weeks apart, scattered throughout their checkered past count already? Or did you start only when the separation was final? How did it work, not being able to go back?

He spent the ride thinking about it. Finding no answers before his driver gave a polite cough. Zoro wondered how long he’d been mindlessly staring at the fifth floor window. He thanked the man, and got out. Leaving a medium tip. He’d been quiet but Zoro wasn't rich. Three bucks would have to do. He turned his phone off, and made his way into the hospital, nodding at the familiar nurses who waved. He signed in and took the stairs three at a time, almost breaking a sweat by the time he reached the fifth floor. He knocked, hearing a soft voice. He assumed it was enter, and he did.

Kuina lay on the single bed. Wires in her arm, and oxygen tubes in her nose. She looked pale again. And her hair was all gone. She’d taken it all in stride. Her spirit was indomitable like that. She was flipping her pen through her fingers. A skill she’d picked up in her extended stay here. Just like she’d picked up writing. She eyed the bag, and her pen dropped, both hands reaching out.

“Please! Oh please please!” she wiggled her fingers. Her energy was up. That was good. He tried to forget that it was most likely the peak she got in between treatments. She set the bag on the tray she had in place, and tore into it. Using the fork Sanji had provided to spear her first victim.

“Good, get distracted and softened up by food.” he sank into the bedside chair, pulling out his glasses, and clicking the folder open. “You can't have the duel end with Shanks losing his arm.”

“But-”

“This is romance.” He knuckled the paper, and glared over the edge of his glasses. “Mihawk is falling in love with him, not killing him.”

“Here me out!” she said, following her burst with stuffing a dumpling in her mouth. He raised his eyebrows and scoffed as she took her time to chew. Finally she swallowed. And started to lick her fingers.

“Kuina, cutting his arm off in their second duel is extreme, unromantic. It'll turn readers off.”

“But it's the only way.” She said. “Shanks was very clearly defined as the better swordsman in their first duel. If it's a stalemate the book ends flat, but if he loses the arm, then it would end one and one. And they could never host a tie breaker because Mihawk would never fight a one armed man for the title. If they are both, in Mihawk's perspective, equal, with no way to settle the score, then the third book could be his transcendence to greater meaning, and-” Zoro raised a hand. And hummed, letting her know he was thinking it over. He shook his head, his hand falling.

“If Mihawk took the arm, that'd be surpassing Shanks, tie aside.” she pouted, eating another dumpling. “But, maybe Shanks could still lose the arm. Just not in the duel. Make the duel a stalemate, find another way to chop off Shanks' arm, and then we are back on course for the third novel. Whatever course that is, with all these changes.”

“Inspirations Zoro. with all these inspirations. You want one?” she offered a dumpling.

“I'm fine,” he flipped through the pages, recalling the first book by memory, some of the details fuzzy. They’d gone through nine first drafts. And three or four more in the editing rounds. “There's a kid Mihawk was sweet on in the first book, the abandoned cat scene, what if Shanks loses the arm saving the kid?”

“You don't want one.” she slid the dumplings aside, looking at him hard. “What happened.” Zoro sighed.

“Kuina, let's work on this, the kid?”

“You’re my brother before you’re my editor, now tell me what happened.” she had her arms crossed. Her will up and ready to outlast his, again. Not that the sterile white sheets were helping his resolve in this fight.

“It was just another fight… our last one. Now-”

“What do you mean your last one? You fight all the time but-”

“He broke the farewell code.”

The room went quiet. Then she closed the tupperware, placing the dumplings back into the bag.

“Kuina, eat them. He makes them for you-”

“What did he say?” her eyes were stone hard, her lips drawn in a near scowl.

“Really, can we just work? I'm too tired for this.”

“I could talk about tired Zoro. or we could talk about the scar you’re walking around with. The fresh one that looks like it went right through your heart.”

He hated when she pulled that card. Permanent advantage. He really couldn't handle her talking about the chemo. Not any better than she did at least. It was for her that he’d do this. He shuttered through a deep breath.

“He told me to figure out if I was the beast or the man… then he slammed the door in my face. I deserved all of it, really, the things I said.”

“Stop.” she had her hand up. “Don't sink into your twisted Self-flagellation. That's helpful for zero people. I thought you were going to therapy for your anger?” he snorted.

“With what money?” He regretted the words instantly. The way she shrunk. The guilt in her eyes. But she bounced back. Fiery over the guilt. 

“I’ve set you up with debt for life anyways. What's a little more on top?”

“They turn you away when they know you don't have the money for it.” he said, and looked at the T.V. off right now, but it was somewhere away from his sister's eyes.

“I'm sorry Zoro.”

“Don't be.” he looked back, catching the trail end of more guilt. He hated seeing that. “Ace had me move in.”

“You didn't clot up did you?” she asked instantly. He gave her the same glare he’d been passing out like they were free. She raised her hands and leaned back. “Alright jeez.”

“As i was saying. Those three are like therapy on their own. And they know me better than Dr. Hiriluk does.”

“You mean they can stop you from drinking.” her voice wasn't mirthful. Not like it was when he was drinking in his twenties. Thirty changed everything apparently.

“And more.” He argued. But nothing came to mind for evidence. Her hand went to his wrist, sitting there and she squeezed.

“Maybe this is for the better. You two were like volcanoes together. Beautiful but-”

“Destructive.” he finished. “I know. Ace has been talking me through it. You two share a lot of the same opinions on this.”

“I'm assuming this is why you had Nami do the copy editing last week?” He nodded. And she pulled her hand back, playing with their father's old fountain pen. It actually had a designated spot on the folder. But they each liked to keep part of it. “You know, Nami could finish the series. If you wanted to switch jobs. I know you’ve gotten offers from-”

“I'm not passing on the project. I'm a big boy now, I can work in the same building as my ex.” 

“I have no doubt. But in the same department? In the desk right across from him? I don't mean to evoke the power of hindsight here, but this stubborn, struggle through method hasnt worked in the past. Maybe-”

“But it's different now. Officially over.” he beamed a fake smile. He didn't need to be reminded of all of this. It was all he could think about already. “I’ll be fine.”

“Those offers come with pay raises. Substantial ones. The offer from New-world had a weekly therapy kind of salary.”

“I like my job. Sure there's an ex across the table, and a witch for team lead, and a terrifying boss. But the work we put out there. If we didn't do it, no one would. Those offers just show me that I'm doing my job. For the Sunny’s dream.”

“A Queerer future for literature.” Kuina said. “I know, you have your dream like every other underpaid superstar stuck in that niche house. But I have my own dreams, among them is seeing you happy. And i don't know what that will take.”

“Oh, i can tell you that.” Zoro said, feeling a genuine smirk slip onto his face. “Nami has been raving about this new book she got, she says it’ll blow mine and Sanji's third’s out of the water year after next. You want to make me happy, help me make her eat her words.” Kuina got a lazy smile and started spinning her pen again.

“Alright you workaholic…” She hummed, her pen spinning fast. “Shanks hasn’t really met the kid, it’d be a hell of a coincidence. But like you say, those are tested by their payoffs. Which we would have an entire third book to build on. It's risky.”

“Swoon worthy.” Zoro corrected. “It’d make the fans clutch their gay little hearts with angst and anticipation.” Kuina snorted, and fixed her oxygen tubes.

“Right. Alright let me see the chapters. We might have to set this up earlier than the third act. Did we have any weak scenes in the middle build-”

…

Firsts came in a variety. A nearly endless variety if one carried a free enough mind. It was certainly the first time Robin had been trapped in a mechanic shop while the storm made landfall with a light show, one bolt of which had struck the three man wide puddle just outside the shop, drawing a unrefined scream from Robin, who’d been leaving, soaking in her nearly scalding water. 

She had landed flat on her ass, shedding her coat as the water that soaked it burned. She reached out for the nearest towel frantically wiping away the water from her face. She tried not to whimper, and examined her hands, noting that she’d grabbed a grease towel and without a doubt now had streaks to accompany her ruined makeup. Thankfully the water hadn't burned her. It felt like it would, with the way her coat had heated up, and her face stung.

“Are you okay?” Franky asked, by her side, his face flashing from the window to her, awe all over it. She looked down. Didn't want him to see her mess of a face. “Quite the scream.” he added when she didn't answer. She flushed, and buried her face father into her legs. Her pant suit soaked. And she was rubbing her greasy face on it. A total loss.

“I'm fine.” she let out a breath.

“I’m terrified.” he said, still at the window. She still heard the puddle splashing. “You’re soaked.”

As if on cue she felt the shop’s draft, shivering now. She was cold. Her coat was soaked, too hot or too cold it was out of use, and she didn't think she could stand yet, let alone leave.

“My office has a heater, and i can find you a clean towel.” his voice was closer. She peeked out, seeing he was offering a hand. She still didn't trust her legs.The heater did sound nice. But… his hand. That wasn't a first right? She’d shaken his hand, passed him keys. She reached out, laying her hand in his. Tiny by comparison. And he pulled, lifting her effortlessly to her feet. She stumbled once, remembering she was wearing heels. Of course just when she’d thought she’d had it she stumbled again, realizing too late that she’d broken a heel. she landed against his chest, his other arm coming around her to hold her steady. He was so warm. She hesitated to push back, unable to stop the way her hand splayed its fingers on his chest.

“Sorry. I-” she shook her head, pulling back fast, finding her balance now.

“Your fine, got the balance now?” he asked, his second arm coming up her back, to her shoulder.

“Yes.” she tested it. “I think I do.” she wobbled, thankful she still had his hands.

“Just take them off. You won't be doing yourself any favours walking like that.” he said. She looked around at the shop floor. It was clean, aside from the old and permanent stains. She dipped, still holding tight on his hand as she undid the thin buckles and stepped from her shoes. The floor was cold. Freezing even. She shivered involuntarily. Her pants were sticking to her skin and the draft was chilling her right up to her thighs. To make it worse the office with the heat was across the shop. No matter, she could do this. She gathered up the shoes and the offending heel, and turned, taking a step to follow Franky and shivered again, the small of her back seizing with the chill. She did her best not let her discomfort be audible. But she’d failed, a tiny sharp breath of pain.

Franky turned, looking her over, flashing a look back to the office.

“I'm coming.” she promised at his questioning eyebrow. “Just c-cold.”

She mentally face-palmed. Why couldn’t she just walk like a normal person? Why did she-

Her mind went blank as Franky swept her up, one arm on her back, cupping her shoulder in his hand, the other hooked under her knees. He cradled her close. He wasn't just warm. He was a furnace. And she felt a dozen times colder, her body's best attempt to trick her, to lean in. She didn't of course. She did nothing. Letting herself be carried without a word of protest. Frozen. He nudged the door open with his leg, and the chill melted away in the heat of the room.

She looked away from him as he set her down, and he made a B-line behind the desk, playing with the thermostat on the back wall. She eyed a chair and sank into it. Curling her icy toes into the warm shag carpet. A strange feature to put in the office. But she had no complaint at the moment. It held heat well.

“I-’ he turned facing her, and she saw the blush on his cheeks, and the way he hesitated. She’d done that a million times with him. When her chest had clenched, or she’d been overcome by something he’d done. He coughed, beating his chest once. To  _ clear his throat _ , of course. “I’ll get you that towel.” he marched himself back out the door. She was in a daze enough to think he’d seen something beautiful, but surely it was something else. A better explanation.

Right. Grease. She fished her emergency mirror from her suit's inner pocket, and looked at the damage.

She shouldn't have looked. Her mascara was destroyed, her eyeliner was smeared, and she had four good sized grease trails that would no doubt bring out zits. He hadn't frozen for any other reason but to adjust to the hideousness. She wouldn't blame him for it. But her heart fell onto a bed of ice-cold spikes. She stuffed the mirror back angry. And shook her head. She had screamed, broke a heel, fell on her ass and looked terrible. This day could go right into the forget pile.

But he’d carried her. That’d been a first. She groaned, running a hand through her hair, because bad hair couldn't make the day any worse. He’d carried her because she couldn’t even manage that walk. The amount of embarrassment she could handle was capping out. She might have to change mechanics if she couldn't get her face to cool off.

When Franky did return, it was with two clean towels, and two steaming cups of hot chocolate. 

“I always keep a supply in the shop, for moments like this.” he explained, setting her cup down on the desk, close at hand. “And if you want.” he pulled out a pair of thick socks from a pocket. “I promise they are clean.” he looked sheepish. She finished setting the first towel under her, so she didn't soak the chair any further. Using the time to weigh the pros and cons.

Not that it was any debate. She could romanticize the first gift. Perhaps a coat on a windy night. That’d always been a favorite of hers. But she was practical. Her toes were cold.

It's just that there were  _ other _ considerations. 

“How thoughtful. Thank you really.” she took them, drying her feet. They were long socks. And she should just roll up her damn pant legs. But she didn't. She tugged on the socks, doing her best to hide the skin as fast as she showed it. She felt like a fool, but maybe it’d pass for blushing virgin.

She shook her head with a silent laugh. The socks looked huge on her feet, and went up well onto her calf. Thankfully Franky had chicken legs, so they weren't too stretched out and didn't immediately fall back down. She grabbed the second towel, and set about wiping her face down. The grease smeared as much as it lifted. The towel coming away with black stains on their blue, that’d probably never go away. “You know these things, what gets the grease off?” She asked looking up, finding him politely staring out the window, but he looked back, smiled.

“A shower.” he said. “No cleaner will do it aside from the magic shower time. Don't know why. But that's the spell.”

“So i'm stuck like this for the rest of the day?” 

“Don't fret it too much.” He said, sitting on the edge of his desk. “You look good in grease.”

Her chest filled, and she laughed before she had time to think. When she did she blushed, hard. Franky did too, and hid behind his mug. Poor guy. He was just trying to cheer her up. He didn't mean it like that. She took her own mug, hiding behind it as she sipped it. She was expecting the cheap stuff but it was rich, more on par with the holiday mix Sanji brought in closer to the holidays. Not the inexpensive chocolate she stocked for her team. She hummed appreciatively.

“Good right?” Franky said, less red now, and he set the empty mug down. She let hers rest in her lap, soaking it in for all the warmth it was worth. 

“Baratie house special.” she said out. “Delicious.” his face faltered just a bit, then he cracked a smirk.

“You know your chocolates.”

“I do, but this one is thanks to a co-worker who buys some for the office every year.” His grin grew, and she sipped more coffee. The heat started to return to her legs.

“I don't think you’ve ever told me what line of work you are in.”

“I'm the editor in chief at Sunny Publishing’s romance division.”

“Sunny publishing? It sounds familiar somehow.”

“Does it?” She asked, brow raised. “We are the lead publisher for Queer led books.” his smile faltered for a second and he gave her a quick once over. She kept her smile perfect. But she wanted to scream. He probably thought she was a lesbian now. And it’d be too awkward for her to correct him. She’d just blown this hadn't she?

“That's good.” he settled on, fumbling for the empty mug. “Long overdue that community made it to the shelf.” his smile was back again. Worse yet she couldn't detect any disappointment. Maybe that was better. If he really wasn't interested, and he thought she was a lesbian then perhaps it was time to give up. She’d made enough of a fool of herself already. She’d press the attack. Get something definitive, yet subtle. Some sign to close up shop, as it were.

“Indeed.” she set the mug back on the desk, close to his legs, and leaned back unabashedly meeting his eyes. Choosing her words carefully. “Many of my coworkers find a personal passion in their work.”

“The relatability?” he suggested. He was quick, smart. Traits she had pinned over in all of their little dances. “To make it to editor-in-chief I imagine you have quite the passion.”

An offer. Not a question, no probing. But he had a quirked brow of his own now. His smile took on some hesitation. Or maybe she was overthinking it. Not the first time that’d been the case.

“Very much so, I believe everyone needs a story to read that they can relate to. And even if by broad stroke the work doesn't pertain to me, Love is the same, and so the work is the same.” Well hadn't she just shoved that down his throat. Maybe she’d been a little bald there. She watched him close for a reaction. His smile eased, crow’s feet at the edges of his eyes. Wasn't that a mark of happiness?

“That's wonderful.” he said. “Really, you have a wonderful heart.”

She felt giddy. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was everything. But the easy smile. The genuine complement. She’d salvage this at least. The day was still a loss. They’d been nice heels, and this suit hadn’t been cheap. Franky looked out the tiny office window, which lined up with a window facing out the shop.

“The rain is still coming down hard.” Then he looked back, at her feet, at her. “I could give you a lift back to the office, if you want to avoid an awkward uber.”

“The shop doesn't close for a few more hours, I thought.”

“Perks of owning it, i can shut down whenever i feel like it.” he said out, “Plus, no one is coming through this to get their brakes checked.” Robin bit her lip while Franky opened the door.

“Do you think you could stop me by my house? it’s on the way, and well.” she looked at her pants. “I need to change. I'm thoroughly soaked.” No smile could hide the blush on his face then, as he held the door open. “Of course, yeah, sure.” he stammered out.

“Thank you.” she said, walking past him. Her foot slipped on the smooth floor, and he had her again.

“I forgot socks slip around, shit that was almost bad.” he pulled her back up.

“It's fine.” She laughed, because she had to do something with the sudden spike of adrenaline, and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll have to carry you again. That okay?” he asked.

Twice in one day… maybe lightning was lucky.

“By all means.” she playfully lifted one leg.

He lifted her again. And she was unsure where to put her hands. She wanted to put them around his neck. Like in the movies. But she didn't think her heart could take it. And if she got any closer he would surely hear it pounding away.

But this was the second time she had gotten carried. On the same day no less. Undoubtedly her next chance at this was years off. She did it. Her hands very nearly shook as they snaked around his neck, resting there, her head now against him fully. If he noticed anything at all, he kept quiet. She relaxed a bit. It was the small mercies.


	3. Rising winds

**Rising Winds**

_ Poem for _

_ Cats and Patience _

_ ~Loose windows and poor frames, _

_ Lend well to the whispers and shrieks, _

_ That demons rend from Wind’s hand. _

_ Yes it speaks. Frantic, desperate, _

_ But never in your tongue~ _

Nami grabbed her gym bag, kissing her fingers and tapping them on her pictures of her mom and sister that sat bedside and gave her outfit a once over in her mirror. Sports bra, tight black half pants. Her legs and left arm displaying in full glory her ink. Then she looked at the photo booth photos she had. Dozens of them decorating the edges of the full length mirror. A majority of them with Zoro and Sanji, plenty with Robin, Nojiko. More with face’s half forgotten from lack of contact.

She spied the one they had all four taken just before the christmas fiasco. They all looked so happy. She could hope she got something just as good at the slowly closing in holiday party. She heard thunder, decided that she could change at the gym, and went across the one room to her wardrobe. The wind whistled through her old rain-swelled window, the chill bringing out those dots along her skin and she shivered, grabbing her thickest coat.

Near half an hour later she was throwing fists at the pads Zoro held up. left right, then she tossed a leg and he took it on both pads. It landed with a heavy thud. It went down and his hands came for her, she ducked, side stepped him and was at it with her fists again. All in all a normal spar for them, somewhat lacking in sarcasm without the blondie to talk shit from the sidelines. In fact he wasn't here at all today.

“How are Ace and Sabo?” she asked, figuring it was a safe topic, while she tried to break his hands with another kick. He side stepped her, catching her before the lack of contact took her to the ground.

“Good, happy.” He muttered back, setting himself again. She shook her head and gestured for the gloves.

She donned them with some hesitation, Zoro could hit hard when he wanted to. His first few thumps were fine.

“Luffy’s good too,” he said. “Still tries to jump me half the days, bugging me about playing with him.”

“And how are you?” his fist hit light, all of its power drained. Two weeks could be a lifetime. It could also be no time at all. But the look that snuck across his attuned scowl spoke of a limbo between both. His fist pulled back and came forward again, with power this time.

“Great. Kuina found some inspiration on my idea. Course she wants to redraft half the book now. But what can you do.” She wouldn't push him. She wanted to. But she could trust the boys with Zoro.

“Say no, my manager will kill me if I miss another deadline?” Nami teased, bringing the pads low to catch his knee. Then chased him for a few swings, letting him bob in and out.

“Right. Cause that works.”

“It does on the weaker authors… you’ve let her grow too powerful.” He grinned, swiping for her legs. She hopped over it, glad she made it. He was playing dirty, new moves to the routine. 

“The stronger she grows, the stronger i have to be.” 

“Kuina is a wildfire Zoro, not a mere woman. At this rate she’ll devour your whole timeline, and you'll fall behind the rest of the team.”

“She wanted to cut his arm off in the duel.”

“She what?” Nami let her hands drop just a bit. Zoro’s fist closed on the opening fast, and stopped a few inches out. He tapped her cheek with his fist lightly. 

“Point.”

“Go back, you’re not letting her do that are you?”

“Of course not. Which is why i'm letting her rewrite half the draft.” he had on his cocky smirk as he grabbed for his water. He’d planned that twist. To drop the news like that. The damn demon.

“With what time?” Her hands clenched in the pads, bringing them to her hair.

“It was this or the arm thing Nami. I picked the hill to die on here.”

“How are you going to keep pace? The round table is Friday! She won't make that, not with any copy done.”

“I know. I'm crashing at the hospital for the rest of the week, I'll be doing the copy while she writes. Some one has to make sure she puts the pen down.”

“Oh, you’ll be in a great mood. I’ll let Robin know. We’ll get the good coffee.” He just shook his head and drained his water.

“What about you? This new author all you make her up to be?” 

“It's called a secret weapon for a reason Zoro. if i went blabbing now, what would the point of it be?” she asked as he walked back over, taking stance again. He gave another look to the tattoo.

“What does she think of it?” his fists followed his voice. She caught both throws easily, going low to jab. 

“I haven't shown her.” And now that she was thinking about it, she felt more embarrassed. She’d almost kissed her. And Nami had been sure at the time that Vivi hadnt noticed anything. But the more she thought about, the more Nami realized that Vivi was just a good actor. Nami had been moving for the kill when the car roared up. There was no way it hadn't been obvious. If Vivi ever found out about the tattoo… if she recognized it. Nami’s meger professional facade would shatter. She’d be damned a stalkerish mega fan wouldn’t she? The book was shaping up to be huge, she would be popular, shipping wars could be dangerous things, from tabloid trash to reddit theories the rabbit hole was deep. Reputations were permanently scared.

“Why not?” Zoro dodged the jab, stepping into her guard.

Her career would be over,

Her reputation would be ruined,

She shrugged, “Just haven't. Figure what's the point before the books even out right?”

“What's the point of a tattoo in the first place?” he looked over her collection as she warred for her root, finally breaking away, blocking more of his punches.

“What's more hardcore then getting a picture stabbed into you?” 

“Apparently showing it to your crush.” Zoro backed up, bouncing on his heels, cocky grin in place. She was flushed red anyways, but her cheeks still burned.

“Was that a challenge?” she asked dead serious, stalking in, fists up.

“That hit a nerve?”

“You know what?” she started, swiping at him fast and hard, getting a kick out of his awkward shuffle with how many blows he had to duck. “I’ll-” her phone buzzed. She paused. She took off the pads and went to her bag to pull it out. It was her impulse reminder.

“You’ll what, show her?” He teased. Yeah. That's what she was going to say. Saved by the bell.

“I’ll do as I damn please.” She shot out, swiping the reminder off. If he was this playful, maybe he wasn't so bad off. She looked him over again. He had deep bags. Probably thought that if he wasn't sleeping anyways then he could work. A far cry better than the hungover heartbroken mess that attempted work that first week. But how much of this was Ace’s bandaids? How little was his own progress? 

She caught him scowling at someone, moving aggressively. She raised her hands ready to stop him, but she followed his eyes, a guy pulling a ball cap down, phone sliding into his pocket. She slung her bag, digging for her taser and keeping her hand on it, concealed. She followed after.

Zoro caught him against some weights, the rack shaking with the force Zoro used. The gym was crowded. Employees were moving in.

“Fucking creep, what are you doing filming her?” Zoro had his hands buried in the man's collar.

“Hey man take it easy you don't-” The man stopped when Zoro cocked a fist back. One of the bulkier employees grabbed his arm.

“Enough!” he said firmly. “Let go of him. We’ll call the cops and get this sorted.” he pulled Zoro back, another employee forcing his hand open. The man dropped, his hand going to his pocket. She stomped on his wrist, leaning down, grabbing the phone from his hand. She had timed it to allow him to unlock it. It was still recording, the idiot. She stopped it, went back. Watched it from the start.

“Miss, get off his hand.” she glared at the employee. He at least looked ashamed at asking her that. She ground her foot back and forth, glaring the employee down, and then removed her foot. Satisfied with the whimper the creep gave.

“Couldn’t have him deleting the evidence.” She handed the phone over to the employee, while the other let go of Zoro. She looked around the crowded gym. Definitely not how she wanted the day off to go. Zoro was still wanting to kill the man. Which was one-third wonderful best friend, and two-thirds boiling rage.

“Come on, let's wait on the piggys over here. She tugged him around the corner, out of sight of the man.

“Should have tased him.” he muttered.

“I do love arc blue.” she smiled. “But i like this gym too.” 

…

Robin stepped from the shower, squeezing her waist length hair out in the tub as much as she could, before it went up in a heavy duty towel. It was heavy but with some work she managed to get it to stay. The room was steamy, the mirror completely fogged, she wiped a hand across it, getting a slightly better look at her face. Leaned in, examining her face. She’d gotten a new scrub to try, smelled nice, like a garden. And it had done the trick. She couldn't see any pimples. She gave a relieved sigh. And grabbed her second towel, drying the rest of her.

She took a full breath as she exited the bathroom, her lungs tasting cool air. She had picked out her night clothes, but she passed them up, stretching out along her bed, andher fingers reached out, dipping the blinds just enough for her to see the night sky. The wind threw the rain against the glass, each massive droplet smacking the glass, and the tree tops swung back and forth. Storm clouds were the sky, the umbra of purple promising a harsh winter, not far off. The wind shrieked, and pines smacked her window, casting shadows from the street light that gave her a ray of light every night.

Storms were cold, and made the trees dance in her shadows. She closed the blinds, twisting the rod slow, watching the light be cut out. No more shadow puppets. She pulled the chain on her nightstand light, and grabbed the socks she still hadnt returned. finding her towel had unwrapped itself from her waist. She leaned forward, running her fingers along the groove on her left calf, a gnarled scar there, and another on her hip, stretching from her waist, to the inside of her knee. There were more, on her other leg. Across her stomach, up. She ran a finger down the scar that lay between her breasts.

She shivered, the small of her back seizing. She pulled the socks on, warm against her skin, and pulled them as high as they would go. They just barely covered her calf scar. She pulled her legs in. her hands feeling the socks. Trying hard to remember being carried, trying harder to forget being carved. The tears came anyways. And so she did as she had always done. She laughed. It took effort, pushing each one through a sob. Through a mess of tears. But she did it. she laughed until her crying had given her a headache. And she fell to her side, exhausted. A fool, naked in bed aside from the man's socks.

She had splurged, and bought everyone a large. Only because she hadn't gotten much sleep. And it was the romance department's favorite. It was the only upside of the monthly close out meeting. In which the first four hours of the day were spent with cranky editors ripping into works with brutal efficiency. Red pens flew across the printer white pages. The smell of ink and coffee everywhere. She set the last cup in front of Zoro, knocking on his head with two fingers, rousing him from his nap.

“We aren't ready to proceed to line editing.” Sanji said, pulling away from his manuscript.

“Sanji, the All blue trilogy can't be late, why even bring it if its not ready?” Nami asked, lowering her glasses.

“Something in it isn't right. And i can't spot it.” he pinched his brow, a cigarette tucked behind his ear. “I know we should have cleared this hurdle last month, trust me, the author isn't happy about this issue later, but he agrees with me that we are missing something, and neither of us will move forward without fixing this.

“Perhaps this is just some middle book anxiety?” Robin asked, settling into her own chair. “If you can't find the issue, maybe there isn't one?” she pulled his manuscript from the pile, skimming the pages. Zeff was a veteran writer. His line editing was always fast, which was most likely the reason him and Sanji thought they could pull this crap.

“Its the conflict.” Zoro said, tossing the manuscript into his done pile. “You resolve the primary conflict, but Carne gets shafted in the worst way once they set out. Patty just bowls over his hesitation with a kiss.”

Robin watched Sanji frown, flipping to near the back of the book, scratching his soul patch.

“He’s right.” Perona was the next done, flipping the pages closed. “Fuck the kiss, tell the author to write out a heart to heart. Throw in a secret or a twist hook, or-”

“He’ll make his favorite food. There's still the elephant tuna from the first book in the freezer. It’ll make him feel loved enough to feel confident about confronting Patty.” Sanji said, making a red note on the paper, and scratching swaths out.

“How long will that take Zeff?” Nami asked. Sanji shrugged. 

“Depends on how much he wants to argue, three days? Five max, this  _ is _ only his side job.”

“It's your full job.” Zoro bit, and Sanji set the script down, glaring over the edge of his glasses.

“I brought a full manuscript. What did you bring to the table?” 

“Stop it. Both of you didn't bring anything for submission to our line editors. As far as i'm concerned you can share the dog house.” Nami growled. “Perona, thank you, for having your work on time.”

“Does that mean you’ll approve Moria for a trilogy?” 

“Not this book.” Nami held up the script. “Creepy stalkerish love. Moria is in a deep niche inside another niche. If you can coax a manuscript out of him that doesn't make me hunt my room for cameras then i’ll let Robin consider it.”

“What a privilege.” Robin smirked, casually flipping through the nearly hundred and half again pages Zoro had produced. “But she’s right. Gifted wordsmith yes, best seller no.” Perona slumped in her chair, giving a disdainful eye to Zoro’s work.

“Zoro’s author doesn't even have an email list, Moria has three hundred names already. I think-”

“TGS raked in triple what Thiller love did.” Zoro cut in, glaring to the girl next to him.

“The list is growing, a trilogy now would boost his career.”

“It would.” Robin conceded. “But his stories are short as is. I'm not confident in his ability to produce a consecutive trilogy. And his works are poor fighters for February release dates.”

“Then what if after this book, I work with him, and pitch an idea for an October release next year?” Robin took a sip of her coffee, Nami had a cocked head, open to the idea. Perona looked at Robin expectedly. She grabbed the script, rereading the last scene.

“Alright. A word of advice though, Moria should hone in on the fear play and less on the sadism. His action is cheap because every punishment is physical.” the little goths eyes narrowed, and she tore through the papers again. She wasn't finding it though. Robin decided to take mercy on her. “The main character, whether Moria had the intention or not, exhibits alot of the symptoms of genophobia, while his ability to be practically unseen or heard is underutilised. I imagine if Moria were to take a similar pairing but introduce a fear play fetish to the secondary, that his work would lengthen enough that a trilogy might not be so far off.”

“That's… brilliant, a pairing like that would be just so cute.” Perona was red, Robin felt her smile weaken, and she took more of her coffee. “Sadism in their case would be a rather large commitment. Every mark, a touch of extreme love.” The goth’s pen was flying.

“It would depend on the person.” Robin blurted out. She looked up, seeing the table staring at her. “A warning to write them carefully. Responsibly.” she smiled. Perona nodded. The room felt stiff still. 

“October would be a rather quick release date. But i trust you’ll see to that.” she looked to Nami.

“You got it chief.” Robin smiled and neated Zoro’s script in her hands, bouncing it on the table to line the pages up. 

“Rather light Mr. Roronoa. Where are we on the other half of this book, which is supposed to be on shelves in less than four months?” He started to explain. Talking about his plan and his stay at the hospital. She tried, but she just couldn’t pay full attention. Before she knew it they had slipped into a discussion about the middle build change, while she was still lost. That was it. She had said  _ person _ , not character. Oh well even editors were allowed some bad word choice.

…

“What are you writing over there?” Kuina asked, flipping her pen through her fingers slowly, hesitating above the keyboard in front of her. He looked at his notebook, the start of a list there. He had one through five now, Kuina’s name across the top spot. He’d been unable to think of anything to put up top.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“What are you writing?” he scribbled the page out and flipped to a new one. Then glared at his sister. “Don't look like you're getting much work done.”

“Yeah… I'm distracted.”

“You know I took a reaming yesterday because of your distractions.”

“I can't help it, there's this big oaf that's moved into my room, always brooding in the corner.”

He snorted and shook his head, he ripped the paper off the spiral book, balled it up and tossed it at her. It bounced off her laptop. And she snatched it, opening it fast. 

“You sneaky little-” 

“Yup.” she cut him off, looking at the back, then the front. “Is this your plan for world domination? I don't blame you for stopping at step one.” she had a smile on, he just shook his head. “Oh come on, tell me!”

“How many pages have you finished?”

“Is seven enough?”

“Today?” she nodded. “No that's not enough!”

What about seventeen?” 

“You just said seven…”

“If you tell me i'm sure it’ll break my writer's block.”

“Nami was right, I am letting you get too powerful. Letting you weasel your way around like this.”

“Please, you couldn't stop me, the concept of you ‘letting’ me is hilarious. Now spill.”

He gave a hefty sigh. “Ace and the clot all have these lists of important things. At the top was each other, then friends and goals and the trivial shit. Ace said it was all about perspective of priorities.”

“Then why arent you up here with me?”

He shrugged.

“That's not an answer brat. You should always be a priority for yourself.”

“And you’re one to talk. We have impending deadlines, and all you want to do is talk about the things i do.”

“I have my priorities in order. Thank you very much. Work would be in second place, maybe even in third, after all i do love that new dating show. Did you know in todays episode that the girl i was rooting for got kicked off?” 

He closed his laptop. “You were rooting for a few of them, you’ll have to be more specific.” She closed her laptop as well, grabbing a remote.

“They have the rerun on at eleven.” the T.V. flicked on.

Zoro adjusted in the chair, getting a better angle at the T.V. Kuina looked tired. He watched her lean back, sliding away the table with one hand. She could never just say she was tired. He got it. Understood why. He just wished it wasn't this way.

“Her.” she pointed. He looked. She had black hair, chin length. 

“Ah, the cop girl from loguetown. Why’d she get kicked off?”

“Its the climax this episode, so just wait.”

She was asleep ten minutes in. But Zoro watched on. Stifled his laughter when she’d punched the guy onto his ass for a comment. The guy was a prick anyways. Kuina was probably happy for her. Still. It stung how much the two of them looked alike. Maybe that was why she rooted for her. He felt tears brim his eyes and a pain somewhere around his throat. He took a deep breath. Pinched the bridge of his nose. If he tried to sleep now, he’d just torment himself, thinking of all the vicarious ways his sister had to live. He got up, got water from his week bag. And opened back up his laptop, opening the shared file that had the book. And there, right at the bottom of the page, she left him a message.

_ Get some rest too. Ya oaf<3 _

He yawned. Decided her list of priorities was probably better than his, and hooked the ottaman closer. He went without a blanket, closing the laptop, and letting its waning heat lull him to sleep.

He woke at the first rap on the door, followed by more, the light knocking... he knew it, but who? “Come in.” he rubbed his eyes, the door swung open and he remembered he wasn't home. Nor at Ace’s.

“Zoro, good morning.” It was the doctor. He looked to the bed, where his sister was still asleep. The doctor had his clipboard.

“Should we wake her up?” he felt tense. If it was bad news he would tell Zoro first. Let him process, and then they’d wake her up. If it was good news, they’d get it at the same time.

“I think we should wake her up first.” the doctor was smiling. Zoro huffed out a smile, rising so fast he had to catch the laptop before it fell. He shook her gently. She raised a hand weakly, trying to fend him off. But she was peeking one eye.

“Up sleepy head.” he said, stepping away and opening the blinds. She pouted eyes still closed.

“Good morning Kuina.” the doctor said, tapping the clipboard on the end of her bed.

“What's so good about it?” she asked, covering her head with a pillow.

“You tossed your coin against the devil, and today you won.”

The pillow hit Zoro’s face. It muffled her confused shout. He caught it as it fell, coming back into the conversation late form his own shock, elation. 

“-Remission. We will still see you here very often though. For the next six months I want weekly visits, and if those go well then we can try for a twice monthly check ups for five years. We can also look into physical therapy, and there are considerations with the amount of lung taken in the surgery.”

“But it's gone? The cancer is gone?”

“There are no signs of it… you’ve made incredible progress over this last year and some. I want to close out the chemo round though.”

“And how long does she have left on that?” 

“Two weeks. And a week of observation, to make sure she works it all out of her system. If all goes well, I could be kicking you two out by December.”

Kuina had hands over her mouth, happy tears slipping free. Zoro was gap mouthed, he shook. Then he moved on instinct, engulfing his sister in his arms. She was frail. Small. And crying like a faucet.

“Christmas at home.” Her voice cracked.

“No more-” Zoro was cut off by the sound of Kuina emptying her guts onto him. “-That.” 

“Sorry Zoro…” she had a hand covered in it, and looked up still smiling.

“Its fine.” he laughed.

“A celebration, and vomit. I’d say we are off to a normal saturday.” the doctor had pressed the nurse call button, and smiled as he offered a clean towel.

She’d worked. His sister could beat lung cancer, and to celebrate she worked. Furiously. Thirty pages kind of furious. Zoro ran a hand through his hair, typing away one handed, and using the shitty trackpad to fix the annoying red underlines. He’d managed to get through ten of the pages so far. But they were nearing the end. That's why his head snapped up when she stopped suddenly. He braced for her victory shout. Or if the pain was too bad, the hand drumming. But he got neither. She just looked at him.

“I wanna tell people Zoro.”

“Tell who?” he asked, and she got a frustrated look.

“Exactly. I need people to tell. Some way to celebrate.”

“We could take a field trip to Sunny, Sanji would fawn over you. And everyone who doesn't know you knows of you.”

“But i’ve only met them a couple times.”

“Well that's how friendships work, you start by meeting them once then-” he took the hand upside the head, just because he wanted to. “Okay, what about your old coworkers, maybe-”

“No… I wish I could tell dad.”

“Alright. Let's do it. I’ll get the incense for it and everything. We’ll take a page out of his scroll. Pray.”

“You? Pray?”

“No, I'm just a tourist in the temple. But I know you want to.”

“Fine. We can tell dad. But if i'm out by December, I wanna come to the christmas party. Tell them ahead of time so i don't totally steal the show.”

…

The chief’s door opened and closed. Perona looked up and around. Everyone else had gone home. Robin was the last one out. Almost.

“Its monday… night.” Robin said with a little yawn and a sweet smile. “What's so important that you’re still here?”

“Moria was more than enthusiastic about the October idea. And your suggestions. I'm just…” she looked back at the computer, and the notebook of handwritten diagrams. “Sorting his brain a bit.”

“And that's worth the overtime?”

“I clocked out at five. I'm just pirating your software and stealing tea.” Tea. she’d forgotten about it. It was cold now, but still wet her throat.

“You don't drive right?” 

“No why?” she looked out the window. Stormwinds batted the trees.

“Because i imagine you’ve missed the last bus. Would you like a ride?”

“I live close. I'll be done in a few more minutes.”

“I used to think that too, early on. There's an inflatable mattress in the supply closet, and some bedding. Sanji has a space heater if you get cold.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” Robin produced a key, laying it on Perona’s desk. “A spare to the front doors. If you do make it home.”

She grabbed the key, and Robin waved over her shoulder, letting out another yawn before she was gone. Perona flipped the key over in her hand a few times. She’d never been trusted with a key. Unless you could count the half year at the mall's hot topic. But half the customers had keys there. This was real trust. She wanted to use it. She set it infront of her monitor. Typing away at the last few lines of ideas, leaving feedback on the character ideas, and adjusting the proposed series of events, mapping them in a bubble graph. 

She knew it was rough work. Raw creative ideas. Mostly disconnected. But she had lines on the bubble graph, more cohesion in his latest brainstorm then there’d been in his first novel submission. Which had actually been his fourteenth. Just the first one to hit her desk. Itd been a grueling three years. But this had fire behind it. Robin’s advice had been spot on. She drew the last connecting line, and snatched the key. She’d scan the graph in tomorrow.

She twisted the key, feeling the lock slide closed. The wind threw her hair around, and she took a few steps back, pushing it aside to look up at the golden lion. She bit her lip, looking at the key again. Realizing that this is what it meant, picking a path. Lifting a cause. She’d found Moria’s work. Wholly unique. Niche on niche. Truly one of a kind. And they had a shot at a trilogy.

“Dyke!” she turned, scowl ready. It was the early morning, so she was expecting some drunk asshole. There was more than enough graffiti on the sides, just this morning she’d seen a- oh. It’d been painted over. Strange. But she faced the man again. Only it wasn't one. It was three. And they did not look drunk as they marched on, their clothes flailing in the wind, their voices harsh, cocky but she couldn't make out their words. Her hand sunk to her small purse, rooting around for her mace. She couldnt find it. She started to step back, looking fully in her purse but it wasn't there.

“Whacha looking for?”

“You’re balls!” she called, giving up on the mace and unslinging the cute, tiny, light purse. It wasn't even a real chain, cheap plastic that looked bright. She was royally fucked. “Too small i guess.” she stepped back, wobbling on her heels. They weren't more than a dozen paces. And the street light flickered.

“Oh is that right.” the third said, licking his lips, looking her up and down. She turned, tried to run. But she didn't make it far. Her scream was lost in the wind as a foot tripped her. She hit the sidewalk hard, flipping to her back in time to see she was surrounded. “You look good girly.” he said over the wind, leaning down. She kicked out, landing one to his head, and another against the man who caught her legs. Wrangling them, and the first was on her, pulling her arms over her head as the third recovered, the rain just starting as his hand, ice cold, gripped her throat. He got close, a horrid smile on his face.

“Go on… scream for me.”

“Enough!” a voice cut through just as the wind died down. The second man looked up, releasing her legs instantly and backing up.

“Shit.” the first said his hands going up backing away. “Calm down man, put that away!”

“Hell no! Look at yourselves, you're not men! Your wild dogs.” She saw a boot kick aside the third and final man. She caught the glint of something steel, reflected poorly in the flickering street lamp. “You know what we used to do with wild dogs?” the new comer aimed the weapon at all three. “Wanna stick around and find out?” He growled. They fled. Shouting and cursing about vengeance as they went.

She scrambled onto the man's legs, using him to crawl up to her feet, watching them run until she lost sight of them.

“Are you okay?” she looked, finding herself draped over him, one of his dark arms around her waist supporting her. But he had his hand free, no fingers on her.

“Thank you.” her fingers dug into his shirt. Her head on his chest.

“Don't thank me, just thank them for being that stupid.” he guestered the weapon.

It was a spray-paint gun. She pulled back, finding paint all over him. She looked around, suddenly wondering where he had come from, and finding the answer in a mess of cans nestled against the two steps from the building. She let go of him.

“Are you the fuck who keeps tagging our wall?”

“What? No no, look, i'm covering it.” he threw his hand over to the wall, the warmth of his other leaving her back. She got closer, seeing that not only was he covering it, it was with his own art. Scenes from last year's books, including one of hers. She looked back. Looking him over carefully. Black curly hair back in a bandana. A hoodie covering overalls, dots and streaks of color all about him. And a long nose.

“Who are you?”

“Usopp… i uh, i know some of the people who work here, and i kinda do this free lance.”

“Why?”

“I uh, just trying to be an ally?” he shrugged. She hooked a thumb at his work.

“You read them?”

“Nami talks a lot during her sessions.”

“Sessions?”

He dug in his pocket, removing a business card. “I'm on the up and up, I'm the one who gives her ink.” the wind picked up again, and the man looked down the street both ways. “Look i'm still kinda freaked about what happened, i think i'm calling it a night. Can i uber you home or something?” 

“I live two blocks away.” rain hit her face and she scowled. Carefully dabbing it with her sleeve. “Could you walk me?”

“Yeah, yeah, let me just-” he crouched by the stairs, and started throwing his cans into a pack, and slung it. Her legs still shook. Not that it showed under her dress. And the way her legs froze in the wind there were definitely a few tears. “Alright. Which way?” she took a step towards him, wrapping her two arms on one of his, feeling a layer of muscle even under the hoodie.

“This way.” she pulled him, and he followed without a complaint.

“I didn't catch your name.”

“Its Perona.”

“Of course, the goth with the creepy stories.” she dug her nails into his arm.

“There not creepy, they're unique.”

He laughed. “They can be both,” he suggested. “But they are, undeniably creepy.” he had a serious voice at the end.

“I suppose.” she loosened her grip. “But they are good.”

“I know, Delilah Undead was phenomenal.”

“You’ve read that?” That was her first book with Moria. She’d sold five hundred copies the entire first year. It was a flop by all standards.

“And Ghasten cried because she was dead, laughed because she sang, and loved, because her heart beat again, even if tragically, it pumped the ichor of their chaos.” He quoted the last line just how she imagined it would’ve been on a screen at the movies.

“Do you like books like that?”

“In a way that keeps me up at night, wondering about vampiric necromancers needing my luxurious skin tone.”

“Or ghosts with just enough power to talk, driving you mad with their evil suggestions.” she countered.

“Oh, stalkers with tranq darts and a crossbow.” he said excitedly. She pfft’d him and smiled, looking at the buildings, not minding the rain or wind.

“Hired hunters with bolo’s and permission to take the property used.”

“Chinese water tortuers and syringes full of potent aphrodisiacs.”

They both shuddered at that one. And she nearly laughed when they both checked around them nervously. Then she faced him again, slowing her pace.

“Sadist with no orgasmic satisfaction.” she said. He nodded, taking her pace, and she leaned on his shoulder.

“Oh that's good.” 

“Yeah?” she asked, stopping, looking forlornly at the three steps that lead up to her apartment building. “It's in a book he’s writing right now.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” He had a nice smile. She could tell better, as the light on her street actually worked. She let her fingers trail his arm as she let go.

“Thank you, for saving me, and the walk.”

“Thank you for the talk. Too few fans of the creepy stuff.” she let him go fully, walking up the steps, digging out her keys, and looked back. He was still there, watching the streets, until he found her staring.

“Sorry, just making sure you got in safe.”

“Do you want to come up? I have tea, or... tequila. If you wanted to talk more?” he smirked. 

“I’d like that.” he stepped closer, up onto her step. Close. Enough so that she had to look up at him. She could fit her whole head under his chin. She bit her lip again, swinging the door out, moving to the elevators. She pressed the button several times. Hearing the man's easy gait behind her.

They waited in silence, boarded in silence. And then the doors closed with a chime.

“Do you know what  Autassassinophilia is?” She asked, taking her time with the word. He shook his head, his hands resting on the bar behind him. She stepped forward as the elevator climbed, grabbing his hoodie by the draw strings and crashing their lips together. He was shocked at the first kiss, audibly so with the second, but by the third he had caught up, his arms at her sides, twisting them so she was against the front, pinned against the wall, gently. And he deepened the kiss, lasting until her lungs burned, and he pulled back with a desperate inhale. Both panting as the doors chimed open. She jingled her keys.

“If you want to know more, follow me, but I warn you-” she turned, stepped out with a flair in her hips. “-it's a trap.”


	4. Flood Rains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Back again with another chapter! You know its funny i always want to leave A/N's but i never know what to say really, so i guess i'll just say that i hope you all enjoy this chapter! Let me know what you think! or any characters that you might want to see.  
> Thank you all so much! every view, and comment means the world to little old quarantined me <3

**Flood Rains**

_ Poem for _

_ Goths and Guile _

_ ~The world is not kind to its heroes, _

_ It can't afford afford to be, _

_ But what is a hero, _

_ Beyond kindness to the world~ _

Usopp lay in a daze, Perona sleeping peacefully on his chest. And as the heat of passion had left he had slowly been pulling the blankets over their naked bodies. By now it was up at their waists. He ran a hand down the goths  _ mostly _ naked back. She still had on the pentagram harness. He supposed she had warned him. And he blushed seeing her flat chest. Not the only surprise he’d found. But as she had told him at the moment,

Fear, flee everything and run

Or

Face everything and rise… and she’d said it with a dip in her eyes to his  _ rise. _ Her hands running up his thighs, her full glory standing proud, in nothing but a harness and fishnets.

His face heated again, swallowed. She had warned him it was a trap.

_ Equipment _ apparently mattered less to him than he thought, as he lay drawing lazy circles on her back. She shivered, made an unintelligible noise, her arms squeezing him a bit tighter. His eyes finally closed. Exhausted. He pulled the bright pink blankets up to his chest. And drifted off.

…

“Nami.” Perona had both her hands on the leads desk. Nami raised a brow, leaning back in her chair.

“Yes?” 

“How much does it hurt?” her eyes were on the tattoos.

“Let me see your arm.” Nami held out a hand, and Perona obliged. Nami rolled up the girls sleeve, and pinched the skin hard.

“Ow!” she ripped her arm back, rubbing at the spot furiously.

“About twice that.” Nami smiled, “Why, looking to get something?” Perona blushed, and looked away. Still rubbing her arm, and crestfallen.

“Maybe…”

“I thought you hated them? Something about not being cute.”

“Maybe i changed my mind. Okay?” She sat in Zoro’s chair, the man scowled at her from the printer.

“And what brought out this change of heart?” Nami gently swung herself in her chair, biting the end of her pen. This was interesting. Perona, the porcelain skinned goth, notorious for bragging about her flawless skin was talking about ink. She supposed it was no surprise that she was chosen. Hachi had a few tattoos, including the one on his forehead. But he wasn't a woman, and Nami just didnt see that happening. Sanji supposedly had a tattoo, but the only one who might have seen it, Zoro, wouldn't confirm nor deny it. So he was out. And she did have the most ink out of the office.

“Nothing.” she said beet red, sinking onto Zoro’s desk.

“Oi!” he called to absolutely zero effect.

“Alright… well if pain is a big factor, my guy Usopp does great work, and he has the lightest…” she stopped, practically seeing the steam lift off the poor girl. “Are you okay?” in reply Perona turned away, saying nothing.

“Oi, come on, i have work.” Zoro was behind her now, staring down at her, arms crossed. Again she didnt move. “What's wrong with you today? Another stuffy die or, wow.” he had tugged on her collar, and his eyes went wide before narrowing. “Who left that?”

“What?” Nami and Perona shouted at the same time, and Nami batted away Zoro’s hand, only to take the girls collar in her own hand, and stared in. a hickey, just there on her collarbone.

“Oh my gods…” Nami clapped once, sitting back in her chair. “Who? is this why you want a tattoo? Its not there name is it?”

“What? No I mean, well…” Perona looked like she was going to bite her lip off.

“Uhuh…” Zoro said unimpressed, then kicked his chair. “Congrats on the cherry pop or whatever, now move out of my seat.”

“You brute, you neanderthal, you-!!” Sanji rose, “How dare you be so indelicate, she is obviously awash in the maidens glow, can you not for one moment have some common sense to handle things like this with care?”

“Oh my god.” Perona collapsed into Nami’s arms, who welcomed her with a scowl at the boys, Zoro reving up a reply, while snagging his seat back.

“Stop!” she called, hearing the dramatic crying of the goth. “You’ve both embarrassed her.” She jutted around to the staring eyes.

“Huh?” Zoro and Sanji growled, glaring around the office, and Nami sighed in relief as instantly the office picked up its dull hum.

“There there.” Nami pet her hair. “Stop the crying and tell me what's going on.”

Nami braced herself on the counter in the break room. It’d taken her last stash of the Baratie chocolate to calm Perona down. And just now she’d said something Nami was sure she had misheard.

“-Usopp? Long nose, black curly hair?”

Perona slid his slick black business card onto the table, the flowy gold script unmistakable, and she sipped the hot chocolate as she did it. All sorts of calm now wasn't she? Nami felt a vein throb. 

“How did you even meet?” 

“He ran off some bigots last week when i stayed late.”

“What? He ran off thugs? He’s the biggest scaredy cat I know.”

“He is.” her tone hit a chord Nami placed between nostalgic and euphoric, and the goth gained a perverted smile.

“Please.” Nami waved her hand desperately, her face contorting. “I don't want to know.”

Perona huffed and set her mug down with a clack. “But now I have an issue.”

“Which is?”

“I want to see him again, but he hasn't called.”

“You have his number right there.”

Perona gave her a deadpan glare, and gestured to her own whole. “I don't do all of this for nothing. I can't make first contact, my esteem won't allow it… but…”

“But what?” Nami had poured her own coffee now, and raised a brow, seating herself on the counter.

“I, sorta… kicked him out... the morning after… but he didn't even ask for my number, so its not all my fault!”

“Did you give him a chance?”

Perona blushed, but stuck her nose in the air, looking away. 

“Not my fault he’s slow.”

“Perona, what did you expect? I mean, why did you even kick him out? You were glowing last week, even I was a little unsettled with how much you were smiling.”

“I was nervous… that he’d… regret it. You know once the knights settled the duel…and the moment was gone.”

“Oh.” Nami gave out a smile. Itd slipped her mind. That Perona was… certainly wouldnt guess it. “But he was…uh.” She coughed. “Receptive right?”

Eager nod.

“Encore after enco-”

“Stop oh gods.” Nami shook her head. She took a steady breath and drank her coffee. “Look, you messed up. Now you have to bite the bullet, and call him.”

Perona fell to the table, mumbling something Nami couldn't hear.

“What?”

Perona looked up, but still not a Nami, with puffed out cheeks and a pout.

“ _ I said, _ you like tattoos…”

“Ah…” Nami said, setting her cup down. She got it now. “Perona, would you like to come with me next time i get one?”

“Yes.” she was still blushing. “W-when would-?” Nami smirked. Bait and hooked.

“The next time I get two hundred bucks. They ain't cheap.” She gave a wink as Perona scowled, and pouted more.

“That's mean.”

“You could just call him.”

“No! That's so uncute!” she pounded the table with her hands twice, before deflating, thunking her forehead on its surface. “I’ll… pay for it...”

Nami supposed she couldn't call the scene ridiculous. Perfection had many, many forms. Expensive, roundabout forms.

“I can't wait. I'm sure he’ll be happy to see you again. And who knows, maybe you’ll see Tattoos ain't so bad.” that seemed to cheer Perona up some. Enough that Nami felt able to slip away, as she’d noticed the clock. She was gonna be late for her meeting.

Nami had done her very best the three weeks since the meeting. She had kept the distance. Doing so had been costly, as she still used the letters. She had gotten one email from Vivi. The typed up manuscript. and she’d be lying if it didn't look worse, dressed in bland font, and without the script it had been born in. Times was the worst font. As was Arial, and Courier. Industry standard nonsense. If it was up to her, she’d scan the original handwritten script and publish that…

But they had reached an impasse. Nami just couldn't explain it well enough through the letters. She thought she had done an excellent job. But author’s were a dozen kinds of weird… Vivi had requested a meeting to have it explained in person. Nami couldn't refuse it even if she wanted to, and she really didn't want to. All the hard work, and she’d jumped at the invitation.

The rains had been unforgiving. And her bike now cut a spray through the street’s puddle. She rode slow, battling winds and fighting for her balance. The mid forties temperature wasn't enough to keep off the sweat of exertion as she fought forward to the coffee shop once more. And she decided that today the bike was retiring until spring. She’d have to bring out the bug. She coasted into the parking lot, swerving around a pickup truck, and hit a puddle. It was too deep and she didnt have the speed, she tipped, landing helmet first on the end of the puddle, her leg pinching in pain and she pulled it from under her bike. She groaned, standing and pulling her bike upright from the puddle, turning it off and walking it to a parking spot. Her leg stung when she walked on it. She’d have a bruise for sure. But the water had softened the impact. Didn’t save the Galley-La bike from getting a long ugly scratch along the front. Scraping up paint, and scratching the windshield. That was a bummer.

She was still bemoaning it as she pulled the tarp over it, finding one of the magnets had broken, letting part of the tarp flap in the wind, smacking along the chromed pipes, scuffing it up. She took a very deep breath, and pulled more of the tarp out, tying it through the wheel spokes. It looked janky, but it kept more damage from happening. With the bike handled she made for the shop, removing her helmet inside, and standing on the welcoming rug, letting the water drip lessen before she dared move in.

Vivi waved from the corner table, gesturing to a second drink and sandwich at the table already. Nami stomped her boots a bit on the rug, and made her way over. Vivi had grabbed one of the many free four chair tables, leaving room for Nami to dump her helmet on the spare chair, tossing her gloves in it soon after, and finally she unzipped her jacket.

“You know i'm supposed to pay for the drinks right?” Nami asked, settling in.

“Yes, I know. But I was early. So I tried their double-espresso Cocoa-fee, and i demand you try it as well.” She slid the drink across the table. Well who was she to argue with that? Nami grabbed it, catching its warm notes before taking a sip. Perfect drinking temperature. Sweet, and bitter. She hummed as it went down.

“You like it?”

“It’s really good, thank you.” 

“I'm glad. My impulse paid off.”

Nami kept her smile in place, but felt her eyes narrow. She didn't meet Vivi’s gaze, instead moving for her own folder. Could just be Vivi didn't remember the conversation from their last meeting. But the lilt in her voice. The way Nami still felt her eyes. Nami doubted that.

“It did. I think it's a new favorite.” she closed her eyes at the same time she faced the girl, and set the folder down, looking at it. She could do this. Focusing on work. Making polite conversation. “How have you been?” She meant to add on something. To be nice, but gently rope in work. But the moment passed.

“Good.” her fingers flexed out. “But i’ve never typed so much before. My fingers still ache.” She laughed lightly. “But i suppose that's my own fault for not using it in the first place.”

“Why is that?” Nami asked without thinking, seeing Vivi flinch. A misstep. “Not that I mind the letters, your handwriting is beautiful, I just meant… uh” Nami searched the woman’s eyes, seeing them soften and she cocked her head.

“It’s fine. It's really a silly thing. I really should use the computer more. I know it's so efficient, and i'm sure it's cheaper than the couriers.”

Nearly free, Nami thought, whereas each letter with even a modest tip was around five dollars for same-day service.

“I'm sorry, I just blurted that out, you don't have to explain it.”

“Yours is beautiful as well.”

“Huh?” Nami asked.

“Your handwriting. You have excellent calligraphy. Left handed right?”

“Yeah, how'd you know?”

“Ink smudges. You rest before signing each letter I'd wager. Each one has a little handprint at the bottom left.”

Well that was embarrassing. She’d have to watch for that next-

“Its cute.” Nami looked up, just as Vivi was taking a bite out of her sandwich. Had she actually said that? 

“Thanks… the guy who taught me hated that I was a lefty, tried to get me to use my right hand. Had to work twice as hard. And really it's not much, I only took a few years before I quit. Nothing compared to your’s, your line control, the width, and your curves, you've completely made your own style.” 

Vivi made to reply, but closed her mouth both times, before settling on;

“I don't know what to say...you’re very sweet.”

Butterflies. Hundreds. Nami couldn’t help the smile that spread onto her face. She didn't know what to say either. She couldn’t meet Vivi’s eyes for more than a few seconds before they landed on her folder. Right, she had work to do.

“Of course. You’ve put years into the script, it deserves compliments and attention. Just like this book.” She took out her pad of notes, and the printed manuscript she had started marking up, the original tucked away in safety at the office.

“Right. About this flaw-”

The discussion had taken a turn to climatic resolutions, and from there had spiraled out into a odd dozen rabbit holes that had taken hours to navigate. Not that Nami had minded too much. The way Vivi took notes, hanging on her words like gospel. And not question shy. Diligent, dedicated. Just so new. Prone to getting the second-look nerves that had sunken so many authors. The slow inevitable, unavoidable approach of the second draft. Where good moments, like jewels, were lost to the sands of common sense. And while ultimately it was always needed, the sacrifice could be too much to bear. But now they were done for the day, leaving the shop.

“Oh my.” Nami stopped, looking at Vivi, who had her hands covering her mouth, looking past Nami at-

“What the hell!” her bike had been hit. Smashed in, and lying like a soldier dying in the parking spot. The rear wheel was bent, the seat pushed up, and the rain puddle was a rainbow with leaking oil. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” she looked around the parking lot, looking for the offender, and found nothing. This was bullshit. Who hit a car and didn't even leave a card?

“Who would do this?” Vivi was at her side, looking over the orange and black mess.

“Assholes.” Nami bit. Then remembered Vivi was a client, not a friend. “Sorry, pardon my lang-”

“No, asshole fits perfectly. Though i'm a little relieved.” her umbrella raised a few inches and Vivi stepped closer, stopping the rain from pelting Nami’s face. “I imagine this weather is dangerous for you to navigate.” her ride pulled up to the spot. But didnt turn in. Nami watched the hazards flip on and the man exit. He was tall, black hair at his chin, and broader than Zoro.

“Everything okay?” he asked, walking around the car, unfazed by the icy rain. Vivi made no effort to move the umbrella as he stepped up onto the sidewalk.

“We’re fine Chaka. But someone did this.”

“Damn.” Nami stepped off to the side. Her insurance wouldn’t cover this. Who knew the next time she’d find a bike for that good a price again. She’d be stuck cage riding for years.

“On it.” she heard the mans deep voice rumble, she looked over, seeing him kick in his cars head light, shattering the glass on the first try. Another kick as he bent his hood.

“What are you doing, that's a million dollar car!” she shouted without second thought

“Its fine Nami. We have good insurance.” Vivi had a phone dialing a number, and she passed Nami the umbrella, looping her free arm around Nami’s and nodded to the shop, putting the phone to her ear. “Yes hello, this is Vivi Nefertari. Yes. yes, i’d like to report that i've had a collision. Yes, no, full fault. Yes i'm aware. Could you send someone out to assess the costs?”

Nami was on autopilot, she opened the door, letting Vivi slip in front of her, and gave a look back, watching the man assess his workover. He’d destroyed that car without a second thought. She looked to Vivi, for the first time realizing just how close she was. And with a cold shock to her heart she realized that  _ this _ was Vivi, the man had destroyed the car for her. She was making the claim, and that smooth, flawless skin and silky hair suddenly looked expensive. The kind Nami knew she could never stand up to. The kind of perfection she pretended didn't exist. 

Which was a good thing right? Because she was just a client.

…

Robin pushed as hard as she could to close her front door against the wet winds of the storm. She celebrated her success with a flick of the deadbolt, which did more to settle the door’s wind-induced racket, then her entire frame heaved on it. She clutched the opaque white plastic bag, that she'd had them double bag. She was thankful the store had only been down the street, with the way the roads ran with water. She set the bag on her table taking off her heavy winter jacket. She’d nearly gone out in the puffy one. Had she done it the winds would have taken her. 

The coat went on the door hook, a towel under it, and she unbagged the phone. She had paid the fee to set it all up at the shop. Made good progress on her book as she waited. And now she hesitated to unbox it. Because once she did, she would want to use it. And that is when she would really become the fool. 

She scoffed, and crossed her arms. Of course she couldn't have hesitated before she’d braved the storm. Risking life and limb for the damn thing. She planned to make a complaint to the city about their loose stop signs flying about. No, here she was, not bothering to pick the drenched hair from her face, staring at a  _ smartphone _ . Her keyboard at work was still beige damn it. 

Now that she thought back, Franky and her were not so different. His monitor was thick, and he’d had shag carpet. In this day and age? She laughed. Alright. She opened the box. Found the phone option after a minute. She supposed the layout wasn't so bad. She dialed the number. If he was any kind of smart he wouldn't have opened shop. But for some reason she wasn't surprised when the line connected.

_ “Someone got a phone.” _ she could hear his smirk. She couldn't help it. She laughed. 

“You should have stayed home. Its dangerous out there.”

_ “Yeah? Tell me about it. Nearly got decapitated by this stop sign. Almost thought it was an omen.” _

“But you don't? Why is that?”

_ “Well you called didn't you?” _

“Oh my.” She bit her lip. She heard him move, hearing the static from the old curly cord she could just see hanging from his office wall. Heard his door click open.

_ “You know i'm looking at this car right now. Thinking of these things i want to do.” _

“And what would those things be?” she tried, pushing perhaps too far. But she was compelled. After all this was just a check up call...

_ “I want to wash her. Clean her part by part. Take my time to make her like new. Put her together like a phoenix.” _

“A phoenix huh?” she chewed her lip. “Risen from the rust. Beautiful again?”

_ “Oh she’s plenty beautiful right now…” _

“But the rust?”

_ “Rust is just her doubt. Needs a good shaking off. No, her real problem is the spark plug. Once that fire’s snuffed out, it won't come back. So she’ll need a new one.” _

“I see.” Robin chewed her lip. “Make sure to order her the best you can.”

_ “You know i will… ”  _ This was dangerous. Her nerves must be running late.

“Franky… let me ask you a question.” He was silent for a moment. She heard him lean against a wall. Heard the cord on the metal of his doorway. And his voice was lower.

_ “Shoot” _

“Do you think a phoenix keeps its scars?” she held her breath. Listening as close as she could. And she could almost feel the shop's draft.

_ “I guess that's what makes them mythical.” _

“Do you suppose that makes them vain?”

_ “Scars are stories we have no choice in telling. There's nothing vain about wanting privacy.” _

“And cars can do that? Want privacy?”

_ “I believe the term vehicle is in the literary world as an excellent metaphor…”  _ he shot playfully, _ “They take journeys with us. They have moments to hide.” _

“But as you say, the stories will be told, won't they?”

_ “If there was choice in that matter, what do you think would happen to someone who paused time, and never went on?” _

A chill took to her heart. It felt lonely. There in her little house. Not even a fire lit. she didnt want to answer the question.

“Do you have the shop lights on?” he smirked through the phone.

_ “Nah.” _

“You can't even see my car can you?” she teased.

_ “Not true. I have no problems seeing in the shadows.” _

“Night vision?”

_ “Cooler than that. I am fire.” _

“Fire.” she said. And the shadow he never had.

_ “Fire.” _ he said again.

“One more question then, before i go.”

_ “Alright.” _

“How much do you plan to burn?”

There was no hesitation as Franky began instantly.

_ “Enough to burn away her rust, to melt away the ice in her engine, enough to get the spark plug that she needs, no matter how long that takes to track down.” _

Robin was smiling. But her chest was hollow and she shook. Torn between tears and laughing, but both for good reasons. “What a lovely mechanic i’ve picked for her.”

_ “What a lovely heart you have, for picking her.” _

“Goodbye Franky.”

_ “Robin,”  _ he hesitated, _ “...I hope the storm passes soon.” _

She didn't reply. She thought about it. Nearly did. But she panicked and ended the call. She could think it was nothing. But it wasn’t beyond her imagination to think about it. Why did he want the storm gone? Did he want to see her again? Did he miss her? If that was the case, then wasn't that a first?

…

“You’ve been in a good mood.” Zoro froze, but only for a second, continued to make the coffee. Sanji came around his side, mug in hand, leaning against the counter. He tried not to overthink it. Tried not to wonder if it was better to make no eye contact, or to make alot. He hated this phase. When nothing was normal around him.

“Yeah, i haven't told anyone yet, but Kuina is uh…” he smiled, and turned. “She’s coming home.”

Sanji’s eyes narrowed, creasing at the ends as he gave a toothy smile.

“That's great Zoro! That's really great. I'm happy for her, for you both.”

“Thanks.” Zoro only realized he was still staring when Sanji turned back to the coffee pot. Zoro pressed the last button, and slowly the water trickled past the beans, burning the flavour from them, dropping into the nasty liquid that smelled like paradise. “She wants to come to the christmas party.”

“She should. I could take her shopping, get her a dress.”

“Oh, yeah.” Zoro rubbed his neck. “She’d probably like that.” Sanji stared at him a moment, and then sighed. Sucking on an unlit cigarette he pulled out.

“Look, if it makes you uncomfortable then i won't. But you can just tell me, i don't like guessing at what you're thinking and hoping i'm right.”

“No she’d like that. I mean, she has a phone you should just ask her. It's just, still, fresh.” he waved his hand.

“Its been a month…”

“What, you’ve already moved on?” Zoro shot out, watching the pot fill. He swore it was going slow on purpose. 

“There's no way I can answer that without hurting you.” Sanji sighed again. Looking at the opposite wall, chewing his cigarette. It was silent. Zoro didnt respond. He’d almost shouted out. But this was work. And he still had restraint, right? “Its been a month, come get the rest of your stuff. Today.”

“I'm busy.” Zoro grabbed the pot.

“Make time. Or you’ll just keep hurting.”

“And why do you care?” Zoro asked harshly, glaring down at Sanji. The man glared back.

“Come get your shit or i'm throwing it out.” he left his mug in the sink. Shouldering past Zoro, and digging for his lighter.

“Damn it, Sanji i'm-” the door slammed. Zoro hit the counter with both hands, spilling his coffee. He scoffed. “Great”

Hours later Zoro was hopping out of Sabo’s truck, heading towards the elevators with an empty pack. His jeans were already soaked from the short walk, and he never did buy that coat. He should have made a list. He could see that now. In fact, he would make a proper list right after this. Get a coat, separate his laundry from the boys’, get his apartment back in order. The elevator opened and he made his way to Sanji’s door. His hand went to the doorknob instinctually, but he stopped, and knocked.

“Come in Zoro. it's unlocked.”

So he did. He came in, finding the living room was rearranged. More open, less furniture. And the area rug was white now, not brown. He found Sanji in the kitchen, cooking. Nothing out of place or different about that. Except he wasn't wearing an apron. Still in his work slacks and vest., his tie looser, but still tucked away.

“Its all still in the room.” he said without looking up.

“Right.” Zoro moved on, to the room which was open. The broken hangers were gone, and a quick glance showed that he’d gotten the door fixed. And his sheets were not red anymore. They were blue. A new comforter, even new pillows. And the bed faced towards the window now, not alongside it. It all felt foreign. By design he was sure. But he wasn't sure he had the pride in spare to ask just whose benefit it was really for.

He didn't dwell on it long. He opened the closest, with an easy motion. All the hangers were different, aside from the ones that held his clothes. He took the hangers too. He sure as shit didn't have any spare, and Sanji was gonna toss them anyways. A few shirts, two pairs of pants. A toothbrush and paste. Not much. Nothing he couldn't do without or hadnt already replaced. But he’d known that before coming. He took in a deep breath. Soaking in the stench of cigarettes. He’d missed it. Such an evil thing to miss. Deadly. 

Half a dozen things he had said here. Regretted them now. The first thing he had said that night, what really kicked the fight into overdrive, he’d said just to piss the cook off. Sanji had done the thing that pissed him off most. He kept his calm. No emotion, no care or passion, just a dead emotionless monotone. So he’d called him on it. Called him a heartless prick.

Just to get a reaction.

He was pathetic. He zipped the bag closed, taking one last look at the room. Everything he’d ever touched gone. He left the room, and stopped at the kitchen again.

“Got everything?” Sanji said in a monotone. Still not looking up from his food.

“I'm sorry.” Sanji grit his teeth, his eyes narrowing.

“What for?”

“About calling you a heartless prick. You're not. And I don't want to be the reason my sister loses a friend. So… I’ll think before I talk.” Sanji huffed, stirring the soup with his ladle.

“Good.”

Sanji said nothing more. Zoro nodded, adjusted the strap on his bag. Made for the door.

“Have a good night, Cook.” and he pulled the front door closed.

Along the top he had Kuina, himself, and their book. In second place he had Nami, Robin. The boys. And then there was number three. Goals. ‘Think before you talk’ was there. ‘Beat out All blue’ was there. As well as a ‘beat Nami’s book’ but he underlined the first thing, twice. He had half a dozen things he regretted, and he did them all the time. He wrote them down. His chest aching with each one. Thoughts of Sanji all over them. He didn't notice Sabo sneaking up behind him.

He jolted at the hand.

“Relax.”

“Get a bell.” Zoro sniped, and Sabo leaned over, reading the list.

“If i did, would it look cute?” Zoro felt his cheeks color. Sabo laughed. “Seriously relax. I'm just teasing.” he had taken the list now, and stopped laughing.

“What?” Zoro sighed, tossing the pen on the table, leaning back in his chair.

“You can't fight a army all at once.” Sabo met his eyes, handing the list back. “If you try and change everything all at once, you’ll fail.”

“Yeah? That from experience?” 

“More than you I bet.” He sunk into the chair opposite Zoro. “What's your plan for thinking before you talk?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Exactly what i asked. Don't think of it so lightly.”

“I don't need a plan, its just something you do right?” 

“It is. But how?” Sabo pushed. 

“Sabo-”

“More so, I'm curious as to why you have been as specific with your goals as you have. Don't get me wrong they are things I agree you should change, but my agreement is for your own personal benefit. What is your motivation?”

“I need a reason to be a better person?”

“No, but there always is one anyways.”

“What are you getting at?” Zoro cut coldly.

“Are you doing this to get Sanji back?”

Zoro huffed, crossing his arms. “No. i'm not.”

“But you want him back still, don't you?”

“You know Ace digs a lot less.” Zoro barked.

“That's because he is tender hearted. I'm not. I don't care if you cry while I pull you out of your delusions. And i'm warning you now, I will be merciless if I get even the stench of you wanting him back.”

Zoro opened his mouth, but paused. Glaring him down as he sucked in a deep breath. “Why the interest?” 

“Because you hurting yourself over and over again is hard on Luffy and Ace to watch. But they won't do anything because they respect you too much.”

“And you don't?” Zoro cocked a brow.

“I love you Zoro. But what the hell am I supposed to respect about that situation?” that hurt. It hurt more that Zoro agreed with him.

“Nothing.” he bit out, folding his list neatly. After all. Sanji had told him the love was gone. The rest was just arguments and frustration. Regret, pain. Guilt.

“One more thing Zoro.” Sabo leaned forward, lacing his fingers, and staring at Zoro from under the brim of his top hat. “Just because i'm done with your shit, doesn't mean I don't believe in you. I do. I want you to be happy. But we both know where you haven't found it.”


	5. Eye of the Storm

**Eye of the Storm**

_ Poem for _

_ Vagrants and Sake _

_ ~The first half of the storm is for you, _

_ A proof and trial, _

_ Evidence in your actions _

_ That not only can you survive, _

_ But you wish too, _

_ The eye is for your breath. _

_ Make it deep,  _

_ Make a wish,  _

_ and as you head back in, _

_ Save someone else along the way~ _

The storm was at its worst. Bad enough that Zoro didn't dare go to work. Instead he sat in the boy’s living room, laptop on his criss crossed legs, staring at the sliding porch door. It wasn't hail, but it tried to be, and it came down in coats thicker than thieves. And aside from the flashing lightning it was dark and ominous. Loud too. Another flash of lightning and Zoro just a glimpse of the city. Empty streets, flooding with trash water, moving with speed to low-town. Another flash as he saw the closest of buildings, with blinds closed, dark. A strong wind pushed on the glass door, water streaking it, and the winds howled like airplane jets.

His phone rang, jolting him from the storm. He cast a glance at the dimmed laptop screen, running a finger along the trackpad to brighten it up again. Kuina had gotten three more pages down. He was solidly slipping behind. His phone rang again and he fished it up from the coffee table. Saga…

“Hello?” 

The sound of the storm answered him, naked and unsheltered.

_ “Where the he- you- i'm at- partment- but-” _

“You’re where? What?”

_ “Why arent you home!” _ Saga shouted, the winds somewhat dampened.

“Why are you at my place?” Zoro challenged, writing a note to Kuina that he had to go. He closed the laptop and stood.

_ “I was in town, fig- but that fai- so i called!” _

“I can't understand you, I'm on my way, I'll be there as soon as i can. Stay dry.”

_ “Be safe Zoro, its-”  _ More wind static.

“Right, says the man in the storm.” Zoro growled, tugging on a coat. “I'm hanging up.”

“Where are you going?” Luffy asked, hanging in the doorway of his room. Sabo on the bed behind him, looking over the edge of a book at him.

“To rescue an idiot from the storm.”

“That’ll just make two idiots in the storm.” Luffy shrugged with a grin, moving to the kitchen.

“No snacks in bed Luffy!” Sabo called.

“Then you better get out of it.” Luffy called back. He also leveled a jerky stick at Zoro. “Who?”

Zoro rubbed his neck. “Saga. says he’s at my place.”

“You shouldn't go.” Luffy opened the jerky.

“Luf, he’s in the cold.”

“He left you in the cold.”

Zoro zipped up the jacket Sanji had given him. He really needed to buy a new one. “Years ago. I'm not gonna leave him to the storm. He’ll die.”

“You could get lost, washed out. You could die.” Luffy countered, popping himself on the kitchen counter, and Zoro leaned on the breakfast bar.

“Its just some rain and wind.”

“He is more than that. He’s trouble.”

“Luf, you can't say you’d leave an old friend in the rain.”

“I could leave an ex. Zoro why did he show up in the middle of a storm?”

Zoro pushed off the bar, moving to get his shoes.

“He’s in the storm. I’ll get him out, and ask him. If it's anything weird, i’ll kick him back out, alright?”

Luffy gave him an unsatisfied look, holding him in contempt with his eyes alone as he chewed the meat stick. To be honest he wasn't sure why he needed Luffy’s approval. But with Ace gone at the station Luffy and Sabo tag teamed the mother hen role. And he was sure his every move was finding its way to the freckled man. So better to hold the line here.

“No you won't.” Luffy settled on, swallowing his bite, throwing the empty wrapper away. Zoro felt a vein throb, he cast a glance to Sabo, who’d made his way to the doorframe, dressed in silk bottoms and nothing else.

“Wheres he going?”

“Saga.” Luffy said.

“In this storm?”

“Look,” Zoro slid his second shoe on, and turned. “He’s in the storm right now, outside my place. You guys hate him, I get it, and mother nature is kicking his ass right now. But he was a friend before he was a lover, yeah? So I'm gonna go get him out the rain.”

“What does that look like from Saga’s point of view?” Sabo asked. “A recently single ex of his, racing through a storm to save him?”

“What would it say about me if i didn't go?”

“That you can mind your own business.” they said simultaneously. He ran a hand down his race, and turned. 

“I’ll be back in a few hours.”

The coat had put up a good fight. But the hour walk through the storm, or hurricane as the weather woman called it, had frozen him to the bone. Beside his face and legs, he was dry, a small mercy. When he finally did wade through the last of the river which had once been a road, he found Saga shaking on his doorstep, curled into a ball.

“You should have just broken in.” Zoro called loud enough to be heard over the wind. He manaeverd his ice stiff hand, sinking the key to its lock, and twisted. Saga gave him a chattering smile, his white hair matted to his head.

“T-thought about i-it.” he said and Zoro offered a hand. Saga took it in his good arm. And Zoro pulled. He was lighter than he’d been two years ago.

“So why are you here? Where's Johnny and Yo?” Zoro closed the door, and Saga stayed in the entryway, dripping. Zoro shook his head while Saga still faced away from him, and moved to get them towels.

“Back home.” Saga replied.

“Yeah?” Zoro mumbled from his linen closet, grabbing the small stack of towels. Giving a look around his place. It was dusty. His stomach growled, but he was loath to check the fridge. “Thought a storm was a fine time to visit old friends?” he tossed the man a towel, and he caught it deftly.

“Old friends.” Saga said the words low. “We're still young aren't we?” he had on that dauntless smile again, toothy grin and all.

“That just shows how old you are.” Zoro finished rubbing his face down and placed the towel on his couch, flopping down into it. “You can come in, you know, you don't just have to stand there.” 

Saga jolted, his smile flickering as he moved in, kicking his sneakers off easily, his soaked socks squishing on the wood. He looked down, dropping and wrangled the socks off, looking around for a place to put them. He looked to Zoro who shrugged, pointing to the shoes. Saga shrugged too, chucking them to land just beside his shoes. Then he sank onto the couch. In the middle, not the other end, and worked the buttons on his coat.

“I brought you something. I know you don't celebrate your birthday. So that's why I came late.” he pulled out Sake. high brand, imported. Zoro’s favorite kind. He offered it. Zoro raised a brow at it, crossing his arms.

“You kinda just admitted that it's a present.”

Saga faltered, his cheeks taking on embarrassment. “Well… still. It's for you.” 

“Alright.” Zoro took it, setting it on the glass coffee table. He wanted to immediately ask why. The drink, no Johnny, no Yozaku. And yes through a storm and all that. “Poor time to come to town.” He was thinking before he talked. Weird. What was he supposed to think about exactly?

“Yeah…” Saga was still in his coat still cold, mindlessly rubbing a towel over his head. “They come every year, you’d think I would remember.”

Zoro sighed to himself, rising and finding the heater knob. He was cold too. He cranked it high. The tell tale sign of it working came soon after. Dust burning on the element. And he didn't remember the draft, but it made him shiver. Shitty apartment. At least it wasn't low-town.

“How’s Kuina?” his voice was cautious. Gentle. 

“Great actually. She’s coming home next week. She beat it.” Zoro felt some real joy pumping through him. Everytime he got to thinking about her. He turned, seeing Saga’s face again, surprise, and… joy.

“That's great Zoro. That makes me so happy.”

Kuina didn't like Saga… why was that? Right… clot.

“Tell her i'm wishing her well for the future.” Zoro scrutinized the man's face. This man had had Zoro’s heart once. And what had he done with it?

But then again, what had Zoro done to him. His eyes cast down to the unmoving arm.

“I will.” he sank back into the couch, eyeing the Sake a bit closer. The boy’s weren't here. He could actually get away with celebrating Kuina’s health. But she would enjoy this too. He could keep it for that. Then it wasn't a personal gift. “I think I'll save this for when she gets home.”

“That’s right, she enjoys Sake too.” Saga was still smiling. It didn't seem like he had much intention on explaining himself.

_ I don't like guessing at what you're thinking and hoping i'm right. _

Sanji.

Zoro set the Sake in the cupboard, closed it. He took a breath, to keep himself calm.

“Why are you here Saga?” He had failed to face the man. He said it from the kitchen, loud but neutral.

“I… I want to talk Zoro.”

Zoro opened the fridge, leaning into it to buy time. He winced. Sanji would kill him for all of this. 

Right, he didn't have to tell Sanji about this. There was still a six pack of cheap beer. Saga wanted to talk huh? What did he want? And more importantly, did Zoro really want to do this? His lease was up soon, so if they had a blow out, at least there was that? Fuck it, he had some steam to blow off. He grabbed the six pack.

“Alright. Talk.”

“Can you… can you face me at least?”

Zoro opened a can, chugging half of it, and wiped his lips. “I'm not sure i can.” he was being stupid.

“I’ve been thinking… about what happened, and my arm. I… Zoro I've got one arm. That's one hand I can hold. I want it to be yours.”

“So when you have to pick huh?” Zoro scoffed, the can crinkled in his hand. That’d just slipped out.

“That’s… deserved.” He was wounded. Zoro shook his head. This kitchen was crowded. “Zoro i'm sorry.”

“What for?” he growled.

“Everything.” Saga’s voice was closer. Zoro looked up, catching his eyes from the doorway. “I'm not expecting anything. But I made up my mind to apologize. To tell you how i feel. And I'm like you. Once I've made up my mind, come hell or hurricanes, I was coming. And I wasn't the only one who came here. So i'm sorry, but i'm also gonna look you in the eye while i do it.”

Zoro's mouth opened without command, shocked. A jolt through his heart. Luffy was right. Zoro wouldn't be able to kick him out. He’d have to listen. Pathetic. Desperate even. And Zoro didn't know which in the kitchen he talked about. He finished off the can, just because the urge to swallow had been too great, and he wanted to hide it.

He hated Saga, for his name. For how well he fit it. Always long winded. Always forgetting no detail. And so many times he had used his power to twist and guilt Zoro back into line. But now it was repenting. Sorries. Forgetting no single wrong. Zoro didn't like it. Looking in his eyes. Keeping a firm neutral face. Knowing that he wouldn't even ask for an apology in return. Saga was groveling.

“Shut the fuck up.” Zoro opened another can. Taking a gulp.

“Zoro, I'm being serious.”

“I know.” Zoro spat. “It's pathetic.”

“Can't you be decent?”

“I am!” Zoro faced away. Taking another breath. He’d been too loud. “You shouldn't look pathetic. It looks wrong. So just… stop.”

And all at once the winds stopped. The rain lifted its assault on the glass, and the sun poured its light into the home. it caught behind Saga, turning his white hair golden. His eyes softened.

“Alright, miracle was a little much.” he smiled, looking at a sight Zoro couldn't see. And The light was wonderful on his tan skin.

“Its just the eye of the storm.” Zoro scoffed.

“Well i intend to enjoy it.” Saga walked off. Zoro heard his back door slide open. Zoro followed the scent of fresh air. The day was young afterall. The sun high, and miles out Zoro could see the towering storm wall. “Do you get this view every time?”

Zoro stepped onto the soaked porch barefooted. Resting his hands on the ice cold railing.

“It varies with each storm, the path it takes. But we get so many of them in the city, that every one, eventually gets inside one.”

“Its… beautiful,” he shivered. “How long do they last?”

“If it stays course, about an hour I think. But i'm bad at guessing.” Nami’d know… he looked out towards low town, and hoped she was okay.

“Will you watch it with me?” Saga’s hand slid on the rail. Just touching his, and made no move to grab it. Zoro didn't answer at first, hung up trying to figure out if he was disappointed or relieved. He was thinking now. Too much. He just needed to reply. Needed to buy time.

“Yeah.” he said, glancing just once, seeing a hopeful, peaceful smile on the man. He didn't look again.

…

Robin had one arm over the railing, holding a steaming cup of coffee, and the other held her cheek. She had a nice view over her complexes parking lot, from the top of a little hill. She was in awe, watching the sun reflecting off the million different things it could. Everything was wet, and shining bright. Including the car she saw wrapping down off the highway. Intriguing. Even more so as it came closer, its teal and purple like flames. Her breath hitched. It turned in.

A man entirely too cocky for his own good stepped out, popping shades up from his eyes, catching her eyes as if the stories between them were gone. She stood straight, gawking at the man gesturing to the car.

“Robin! Let's go for a drive!” 

“Franky!” she blushed, she wasn't the only one watching the storm. Her neighbors were out, several smoking while they had the chance, all of them staring at the man in the phoenix of a car. “There's a hurricane on, are you mad?”

“Like i don't know that. I'm chasing the eye! We haven't got much longer this side of town. So hurry down!” He sunk onto the hood, not breaking eye contact.

She felt her heart speed up, and her feet moved before her. Franky was insane, but she couldn't leave him just waiting there. She slipped off her pajamas, despairing when she found all of her jeans were dirty. She had her suits… hardly the occasion. She had the skirts… she hesitated, picking out a floral pattern, long, but better suited to spring. Still it was a bit warm in the eye. She slipped it on. She looked in the mirror. It fit her well on the hips, and she turned, relishing the way it flourished out. It’d been years since she wore a skirt. She grabbed a matching top, a purple one. Something closer to the car's purple and rolled the cuffs twice on each arm. As high as she could go. She grabbed her purse, not sparing the time to switch it out. She left, taking the elevator, only because it was the eye, left the building, finding no shortage of attention as she did so.

But she only looked at Franky. Only met his eyes, and got drunk on his smile. He pushed off the hood, opening her door for her.

“You look great.” she blushed. He’d said it low, as he closed her door, leaving her no need to reply as he made to his own door. She knew what this was. He was pressing the attack. And now that she was here, watching him back out onto the road, she wasn't sure if she was ready.

“What do you think of the car?” he offered her a smirk, throwing an arm over her seat as he reversed.

She ran a hand along the dash, clean, like new. Her finger caught, a little gouge missing.

“She’s beautiful.” The car had stopped, she was still in the parking lot, and she met Franky’s eyes again. He was looking right at her.

“She really is.” She looked away, on fire.

“Franky…” she said with the little air that hadn't been lost. He’d come to attack, and she was doing a poor job defending. The car rolled out, twisting back up and onto the highway again.

“Have you ever been storm riding?” he asked, his hand moving to the clutch, working it. Their speed picked up. A topic change.

“I haven't.” the highway was empty. The water drained off, but not gone. And he had the windows down, the wind, the scent of grass and ozone, and a silence beyond it that she found enchanting. 

“I go every time. The temptation is always too great for that shelter in place stuff.”

“It’s understandable. This is amazing.” The highway came level with a skyscraper, the image reflected along its row of windows, and as they passed it a rainbow caught her eye. She looked up, seeing more than just one. She had craned her neck to see out, and she heard the car whir. That's right. It’d been a convertible hadn't it.

“There's a spell about the eye. Since it's your first time, I'll take mercy and tell you.” he said, and she noticed they were not going terribly fast. A leisurely drive. She leaned back, feeling the sun on her face.

“A spell huh?” she watched him. Watched him glance at her often, smirking.

“A very powerful one. A certain, comfortable isolation. Everything here, this peace we know to be temporary, is nonetheless real.” 

“Fascinating... I think i feel it. The peace.” she looked out at the empty office buildings. Knowing for once there would be no eyes to stare. No comments or questions. All things that sunk into her skin and weighed her down for days afterwards. 

But there was one pair of eyes that could still see her. A pair that with a look, not even a word, could do more damage to her than the comments and questions combined. She felt the peace. And more comfortable than a normal day.

“You know chasing the eye is a lot like trying to pause.” she said, remembered their one and only phone conversation.

“Don't break the spell.” he said looking at her. Gave her a smile. “Today, for as long as you want, we can follow this peace. On the condition you enjoy it. Use it to think. Pretend the storm isn't here. What would you do?”

“Is this an assignment?” she teased.

“Not at all.” he laughed. He reached over, opening the glove, the only thing in it an old fabric CD holder. He set it in her lap. “Pick something out, crank it, sing. Or don't. I’m just here to drive.”

“Is that all?” she asked, unzipping the case.

“For today.” he said readily. “I am who i am. So I'll drive. Who are you?”

She couldn't keep the smile off her face. She looked away from him, flipping through the diverse music. She found something she remembered from college and popped it in. she had no idea if she’d remember the lyrics. She wouldn't sing. But she took her shoes off, and leaned her seat back, kicking her feet onto the dash, and her arms behind her head, looking up through her shades at the noon sun. she didn't care that her skirt showed her calves. She just cared about the classic rock Franky had cranked, the wind that played with her hair, and the man himself, singing along to every song she’d ever connected with. He’d come to press the attack, and she had been defenseless. 

She smiled, because defeat had never felt like paradise before.

…

Nami gave a last glance at the sun, as the wind picked up behind her. The clutch of mail she’d grabbed started taking rain. So she hurried inside. Kicked off her shoes. Tucked the towel back under the door. And checked the ones she had at the windows. The one by her bed was the worst off. The old wood had swollen and cracked, the towel was completely soaked, and a trail of water made its way into her carpet. She swapped out the towel, throwing it in the dryer on high. She sighed, flopping onto her bed, and sifted through the mail. Bills, junk, insurance?

That's right. Vivi had sent a letter a few days ago saying it’d be on its way. Conservatively her bike should've been worth twenty-five thousand. She expected to get maybe twelve. She opened the envelope, skimming over the paperwork, finding a separate smaller envelope, unsealed. She opened it pulling out the check.

She saw the two and five next to each other and smiled. She'd gotten the bikes worth. Its full-

There was a one in front of it.

She was holding a check for one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. This was a mistake. It had to be. She skimmed the paperwork, finding the settlement the insurances had discussed with each other. The list of damages.

They’d been overly generous in the evaluation. This was enough money to buy one of the new model bikes. She went to her desk, opening the drawer and pulling the most recent letter from the small collection. Reading the pages quickly. But Vivi hadn't hinted at this. She looked at the check again. Remembering the way the guy had just went at the car like it was nothing.

She’d said they’d had good insurance. 

Just who was Vivi?

Nami opened her laptop, hearing it slowly hum to life. She heard the rain pick up on the windows again. She looked at the check again as the laptop lit up. Would she accept this? Hell, could she actually even give it back? She’d decide once she figured this out. She typed in her password, and clicked on her browser. The computer was old. Still waking up, her foot started to bounce. It was taking forever.

She jumped as the draft worsened. Whistling through the window. The computer was taking too long. She rose, looked around for her duct-tape, and went about sealing the window. By the time she had finished that, a small puddle had made it through the door. She was glad for the step up she had. So the water would be contained in the shoe well. Still, she grabbed her last dry towel, and placed it under the door. She tossed the wet towel in the dryer as well, after a through wringing out. And found the browser had loaded. She typed Vivi’s full name into the search bar, hit enter, and waited. Lightning flashed out, a second later followed by thunder. And the browser reported a lack of internet. She groaned, leaning back in her chair, rubbing a hand down her face.

“Of course…” she moaned out. Kicking away from the desk on the wheeled chair. She didn't make it far on the carpet. Stopping halfway between the desk and her bed, looking into the mirror. At the photostrips tucked along the edges to near bursting. The storm had her bored. She’d gone to check the mail as a distraction. And a way to enjoy the short eye of the storm she got. Waded through a stream of endless trash, and she’d only gone a couple hundred feet. 

Why was Vivi so kind? Why did she do this? Nami had no doubt Vivi had  _ done _ this. Somehow she had made them be generous. But why. Vivi had said the ‘we’ about her and Chaka... This was a fraud claim. That somehow had worked through the system, and wound up in her hands. Nami had her doubts when Vivi said it’d be fine. Surely there was risk? So why risk it? Nami was just an editor. Lived in a low-town studio, and worked at a small publishing house. She didn't think her assets combined could reach a hundred thousand dollars. In fact she knew it. Because she had no asset’s. She spun the chair, taking in her studio. Bed, mirror, desk, loveseat, tiny coffee table, the latter two of which faced her porch. A few tapestries on the walls, and the kitchen, with its fridge, and the two burner stove-top.

She didnt see anybody risking anything for this.

So what was it? Was Vivi just so rich that this was like a nicety? 

‘Bummer about the bike, let's commit insurance fraud and get you a new one!’ 

No she had another motive… Nami closed her eyes. The wind still whistled and howled. Sounding the part for banshees and demons. How many reasons were there for doing that?

Maybe she’d wanted a new car and found a good enough excuse.

Maybe it was just Vivi trying to get on Nami’s good side, afterall money didn't seem like an issue for her.

Maybe she was just really nice…

Nami would assume that. Until she had the chance to ask her.

Vivi was just really nice. It fit everything she knew about the girl. Even her novel had been… sensitive.

Could it be an attraction… no right? That was silly. She had Chaka. She was rich.

Still. It was a stretch to say insurance fraud was a nice friendly act. So maybe-

Her phone went off. She dug it from her pocket, swiping out the impulse alarm. But it’d come at the right time. Stuck in her home like this was driving her crazy.

It was just hope. Involuntary hope. The kind she couldn't crush out with logic. She left her chair abandoned, hooking the check into the mirror’s edge, and went to bed, sinking under the blankets. She wasn't tired, not really. But her chest ached, and she was cold. A little midday cat nap was just what she wanted. Maybe the second half of the storm would pass by while she dreamed.

Or maybe the building’s support would finally rot though, and she wouldn't have to wake up and deal with this annoying, confusing… job obstructing hope. She curled a fist in her pillow, pulling it over her face.


	6. Hail's Wake Pt.1

**Hail’s Wake**

_ Part 1 _

_ (Split into two chapters because  _

_ Nami’s section got real looooong,  _

_ (Worth it) _

_ Hope you enjoy it! _

Sanji closed and locked his door, lighting a cigarette, and dropped his folder on his coffee table. He pulled deep on the smoke, pulling the stick from his mouth, and blowing our rings. One hand lazily undid the buttons of his vest, and he caught the stove clock. Half past five. He went to his room, grabbing one of the new pearl pink hangers, setting his vest on it, and slung off his tie, pushing through his closest until he found the tie hook. The ocean blue went on. And a marimo green one fell.

He took another drag, making no move to pick it up. But staring at it.

It was Zoro’s. Sanji had bought it for him. He’d worn it once. To the christmas party. Ash fell to the pristine carpet. Sanji set the smoke in the nearby ashtray, and grabbed the tie. Soft. he brought it closer. Catching just a hint of Zoro, and his eyes watered. He grit his teeth. Picking the cigarette back up, sucking hard, and marched to his kitchen’s trash, stomping on the peddle. The lid slammed against the wall like only plastic could, and he held the tie over the trash can. However the only thing to be thrown away were the tears that came, and the cigarette that fell. He shook. Shivered. Sobbed until his knees caved. He cradled the tie to his chest, curling around it. He wailed until his voice gave out, and his sobs had no more air, but no less passion. And then he wailed some more. Harder, if not louder. Until his back and head hurt. Until his tears were dry.

When he was done, he lay on the kitchen floor, tie still on his chest. And he smoked. Ashing three cigarettes onto the tile. And finally he rose, stepped on the peddle again, raised the tie over it. He caught the stove clock again.

Half past seven. He hesitated. Laughed at himself. And in anger tossed the tie blindly behind him.

…

“No Hachi, i'm just saying, Arlong is a bit of a dick for a romantic lead.” Nami said, filling her cup of coffee. “I liked her lead in the Sun pirates series. And Jimbei, what a heartful man.”

“Nami-san…” Hachi rubbed his head and shrugged “I get it. But it's my job to support her no matter what, so if she wants to write Arlong, i’ll let her. She’s early career, she needs to write the bad boy phase out.”

“Given up on her getting over the harem thing?”

“Oh yeah.” Hachi hung his head. “Long time ago. Wherever they soar right? Honestly, if you would have told me ten years ago id be the team manager of a queer publishers erotacia deparment…odd where you find your stride in career. Speaking of which, why were you reading Warlord of Coyoshi?”

“Oh uh, you know, figure i’ve got a better chance at a chief position. The better versed i am on top performers all around. Shoe in the door thing.” he nodded, she relaxed.

“Aggressive, no wonder you're a top performer. Me and Ms. Hancock were discussing World Atlas the other day, and she said something I found rather interesting about a moment in the book you had slaved over with the author.”

“Really? W-whatd she say?” 

“Well-”

“Nami!” Perona shouted as she barged in, the break room door hitting the wall. “Today!”

“Today?” Nami gave her a once over, spotting a familiar black hoodie mostly stuffed into a paper bag. That was Usopp’s. And she was dressed to the nines, gothic, but tight, frills made to enunciate her curves, nor disguise them. 

“I’ll be honest, I didn't see him being into super goth.” her voice was dry, and sipped at her coffee.

“You’re getting a free tattoo!” Perona shouted, then pouted. “...At least tell me i look nice.” Nami made a swirl motion, and Perona did a three sixty.

“He is an ass man though. You look great. I’ll make the appointment.” she smirked as Perona went crimson, and Hachi choked on his coffee.

“Nami!” Perona’s voice went high. Nami winced. Worth it though. And it was good timing. She still hadn’t worked up the courage to deposit the check. So she still had the bug. And that dress would’ve never worked on a bike. She left them red in the break room, finding Chopper at her desk, letter in hand.

“Nami! Same-day from Vivi.” he gave her the letter and held his pad out for her to sign. She whipped off her signature pinwheel, and dug for a bill from the tax jar. “Thanks a bunch!” 

“Of course.” She smiled, looking up from the letter. “I hope it's going to a savings of some sort.” 

“College fund.” He smiled, clicking the pad. 

“Yeah? What for?”

“I wanna be an editor.” he burst out happily.

“Huh?” Zoro and Sanji glared, the Green’s glasses slipping lower, and the blonde with a cigarette loose in his lips.

“No.” Nami glared. “Go be a doctor or something that makes money, or I swear to your patheon I will crush you.”

“What? Why?” He took a cautious step back.

“Its for you own good kid.” Sanji stood, glasses on, glaring down at Chopper. “Only the the most durable of souls can withstand the trials this life brings.” he laid a hand on Chopper's shoulder. “You look kind, happy. So run and be free.”

“But-”

“Run while you can.” Sanji said cryptically, digging for his lighter and walking away.

“What's wrong with Sanji today?” Chopper asked Nami worriedly. She shook her head dramatically, bringing an actor's tear to her eye, and stood beside him, looking after Sanji. “There's no cure for the editor's disease. Believe it or not he is rather healthy for a ten year vet. He’ll likely live another twenty years before, well... Go be a doctor. Find a cure and bring it back here. That will be your hero’s journey young one.”

He looked scared, backing up, then he turned, nodded, and ran. Zoro busted up laughing, as did she.

“Think he’ll listen?” Zoro asked, stretching out.

“Depends on who else he runs mail for.” she opened the letter, unfolding the single sheet.

“Yeah. but you could always just have Robin run something through him.”

She glared. “I won't admit defeat of any kind to her.” she looked back to the letter.

“What’s wrong?” 

“She wants to meet.”

“So?” Zoro was leaning back into his work, adjusting his glasses and typing away.

“Today. In like, forty minutes.”

“Sounds like she’s going into panic mode. Should be fun to see what that’s like.”

“Would’ve been nice of her to tell me what she was worked up over.”

“Yeah, but then you would have just sent her another letter.”

“Of course i would! I have an appointment later, and our meetings run long…”

“So flirt less.” Zoro shot with a smirk.

“You-” her phone buzzed and she swiped the alarm off angrily. Glaring at him, as she closed her mouth. Zoro laughed again, and she stormed off to Robin’s office.

“Sorry i'm late. My boss had me- whoa.” Nami stopped cold in her step. Vivi wore an ice blue kaftan with red square patterns, and held a cup of steaming cocoa. She was looking out at the snow. It looked like the cover of a movie, or an album. Or a phone background... Then she looked up, turned a little apologetic.

“Please, don't be, I know it was rather… demanding.”

“It's fine.” she sank into her seat, still stunned. Blue matched her skin perfectly, and Nami loved blue. “You’re beautiful.” Vivi blushed and Nami slapped a hand over her mouth. Blushing herself. “I'm sorry, I just, your outfits are always so pretty, and you always match your tone so well, and the blue…” Nami met her eyes after panicking around the table looking for the answer. But Vivi was smiling sweetly, blush on her cheeks.

“Is blue your favorite color?”

“Yeah…”

“What shade?”

“Uh,” Nami couldn't answer that, she couldn’t say it. Because how do you describe a person's hair, without it being obvious? Nami didn't know what brand she dyed it with. And even if she did she couldn't call it by the box name.

“I suppose that is a strange question, who knows their favorite shade.” Vivi waved it off. And Nami couldn't help but think she’d sensed something. That Vivi had seen through Nami again, like she was sure she had their first meeting. She looked out the window again, watching the snow fall. “It’s beautiful. In my home, we don't get snow like this. None at all actually. That's why I wanted to meet.”

Nami wanted to ask her where home was. Why she left. 

“The snow?”

“They run away at the end. And I was wondering, instead of the beach, with more sand… what if they found snow?”

Nami leaned back. What if they found snow? Vivi was still entranced by it.

“Koza has that unexplained military career.” Nami started, pulling out her folder, noticing that Vivi didn't have anything out. Strange. “You could say he has experience with it. You already end it rather sweet, perhaps a snow date?” She had her yellow pad, scrawling the notes out. “What do you think of that?” This was actually a rather simple, easy to fit in solution. Vivi bit her thumb, still looking out the window, making Nami’s chest ache.

“What do you do on a snow date?” 

“Well, plenty of things. You have to throw at least one snowball, make a snowman maybe, take a walk through a park, ice skating on a lake. It's a grab bag of things.”

“What's a snowball?” 

No… no way. Nami wouldn't believe it. She leaned back in surprise, taking in the accent again. Subtle but still very there. And the book was entirely in the desert. Written to understand what the environment was, really could be.

“Is this your very first time seeing snow?”

She’d probably lived in the desert her whole life. Which begged the question, why’d she move? Why here of all places? Why were they so lucky? 

“It is… Nami,” she bit her lip, she looked… nervous, but that couldn't be right. “Could you be my Koza? Just for the day?” she was red. And Nami was sure she was nothing but a tomato herself with the way her face felt. She stared at Vivi, who was playing with her mug, staring into it. She looked so…

Well Authors were a dozen kinds of weird. Nami shouldn't think anything of this. She took a deep breath. It was just like the jacket thing. It’d do Vivi no good unless she did it herself. Learned first hand how the experiences went. Nami could do that. Maybe it’d even be fun. She slid the pad back into the folder.

“Alright.” Nami rose, beaming with a confident smile, and hooked an arm out. Because if she was going to torture her self for the art, she’d do it in character. “I’ll be your date, my sweet prince.” Vivi blushed deep at the reference and stood fast. Nami couldn't help a little laugh. She really was a little lost fawn. She took her arm, and Nami instinctually started moving to her bike.

But she had the bug. The ugly, old bug.

She’d done a thorough clean when she brought it out, but…

Vivi was used to a million dollar luxury car.

Her phone buzzed. A reminder, too little too late.

“You should really turn those off.” Vivi said. She had one arm hooked around hers at the elbows, and the other on just above the other, on her bicep. She was close. Smelling her vanilla shampoo close. And it was great. Warm against the dead cold of early December.

“I don't know, they saved me some massive amounts of embarrassment so far, you wouldn't believe.”

“Then what have you missed out on?” Vivi’s head was on her shoulder. Very in character… authors, weird.

“What do you mean?”

“You said when we first met, that they were just as ruinous as they were fortuitous. If they’ve saved you embarrassment, They’ve also cost you joy.”

Nami stopped, partly because they’d reached the bug, no matter how slowly Nami had walked. But mostly it was that she couldn't help but stare at Vivi because that just…

Hurt in such an honest, caring way. She had stopped because she didn't know what to do. 

“Maybe it was worth it?” she pulled out her keys. After all, what joy was equal to the mistake that would have been kissing Vivi  _ in front _ of her boyfriend. Nami unlocked Vivi’s door first, pulling it open for her. Vivi sank into the seat, pulling her legs in, but was looking at Nami, from the moment she closed the door, until Nami was behind the wheel, closing her own door.

“I doubt it.” she was practically pouting. Nami twisted the key. The car took two or three shunting breaths of life before it turned over. Nami turned on the heat, and faced Vivi to reply. But the woman had on another lost fawn look, her fingers roaming the photo strips of Nami’s twenty-first. When mom was still around. She’d been but an intern then. Certainly looked a good deal younger, smaller bags under the eyes. And long full hair. She’d been a different person, before Sunny had freed her up.

The photos were pinned on to the sun shield. Which had somehow broken in place, and couldn't be moved.

“You look so…” Vivi was choosing her words carefully. And Nami half turned, waiting with a smile. Would she say, young? Different? Bland? 

“Excited.” Vivi had the strip with Nami proudly displaying her badge. Man the days when Sunny cared for badges…Nami’s heart twinged. Vivi had gone with something that was  _ not _ her appearance. 

She watched Vivi carefully put the strip back. That was when she saw the man with the camera, the big photo lens facing her. The flash went off, and Vivi flinched.

“Fucker.” Nami pushed her door open.

“Wait, Nami-” she didn’t hear the rest as she slammed the door.

“What are you doing!” Nami didn't need her taser. This guy looked more puff then tuff, and his terrified eyes gave him away as a coward.

“What? You gotta expect these things when you’re-” she didn't let him finish, she kicked at the camera in his hand, shattering a few thousand dollars instantly.

“I don't have to expect shit from perverts!” She shouted as the man steadied from her kick, gawking at his camera… at least the pieces it was in. “Get the fuck out of here, and if i ever see you-”

“Nami!” Vivi shouted. Nami stopped mid sentence, turning to face the woman who stood from the car. She looked worried and… mad? The man took off. She spit in rage. Took a breath.

“He was-”

“I know. I'm used to it.” Vivi looked sad now. But no less angry. “You can't just do that to them, they’ll-”

“What? Call the cops on me? Vivi those sickos just post that shit online to their fetish blogs. I don't put up with-”

“What? Nami no, they…” Vivi stopped herself. “Wait, you thought he was just a creep?”

“What did you think he was?”

“Nothing.” Vivi said instantly. Nami didn't buy it. She had done a one-eighty in attitude… but she’d also been about to tell Nami off, so maybe that wasn't so bad. Vivi was back in the car fast. Not giving Nami a chance to push the issue. Nami tried to see the man running, but he was long gone. Not like she would have found a key to understanding this if she could have seen him. She let it go. She couldn't afford to fight with a client. She just wanted to go back to her date, which wasn't a date. She sank back into the bug, the engine still going, and the cab sufficiently warmed up now.

“Thank you… for taking care of him.” Vivi said quietly, staring at her hands. What did she have to be embarrassed about?

“Do they bother you alot?”

“Yeah.” Vivi sank further. She didn't want to talk about it. But Nami didnt like this. Didn't like knowing that guys stalked Vivi around so much that she was used to it. Tolerated it. She wanted to ask what Chaka’s response was to them. But that was her jealousy. “They’ve found the coffee shop now… I'm sorry but could we pick somewhere else to meet from now on?”

“Of course. I’ll meet you anywhere you feel safe.” Nami rested a hand on Vivi’s shoulder. Squeezing reassuringly. And then slid her arm behind the seat as she backed out of the space.

Vivi explored the car as Nami drove. She had asked questions about the pictures, the tangerine air freshener, the custom suicide doors. She’d played with the seat functions, explored the dash and glove compartment. Which held a pack of year old smokes that she’d had to hide from Zoro. Funny, she’d hidden the pack, and just stopped. Well she had taken Zoro to the hospital for a month straight. Seeing Kuina every day, losing hair, and her smile. It had been easy to quit.

And then Vivi had gone into the back seat while Nami was pushing forty on the snowy highway. The kaftan had gotten snagged on the head rest. Gone up just enough for Nami to see Vivi’s long legs… smooth, up to the hip, before Vivi had unhooked it with a laugh, and Nami’s glimpse had ended.

Nami bit her lip again. She’d draw blood at this rate. Vivi was  _ free _ , running her hand along the old outdated upholstery, and playing with a window crank with the other.

“Getting your research done?” Nami asked lightly, still trying to figure out her date plan. She checked her phone’s time. Only two hours before she had to pick up Perona… she shouldn’t have agreed with the goth. And she’d made Usopp stay late on his friday.

“I love your car Nami.” Vivi popped her head in between the two seats, grinning like a devil. “Cozy, soft, and so… warm.” She crossed back into her own seat. A feat in the crowded space. She gave a happy sigh, looking out at the scenery. 

“Are you too warm? I can turn it down.” Nami’s hand went to the knob, but Vivi’s stopped her, grabbing her fingers gently.

“Not that kind of warm… I just don't know how to describe it any better.” 

Nami might have been able to help her. Like a good editor. If her heart wasn't taking up her head space. Vivi still had her fingers. The girl herself was still watching the snow fall with childlike wonder. Nami’s thumb came up, stroking Vivi’s fingers gently. Then she saw her exit, and instinct kicked in, her hand pulling away to hit the turn signal, and help turn the wheel. Power steering was a much envied luxury for Nami.

Nami held her snowball up, Seeing Vivi still packing snow onto hers. The mall parking lot was surprisingly empty. But the schools weren't on break yet.

“Like this?” Vivi held hers up. A perfect little ball of white on her gloves.

“Just like that.” 

“And now what?” so innocent. So pure. Looking at her snowball so proudly.

“Well now we throw them at each other.”

“We what-?” Vivi was shocked, even more so after Nami’s snow ball hit her face, the powder exploding out. She had her head back from the snow, but kept it there, only to face Nami again slow. 

She had her lost fawn look again, and Nami wondered if that’d been too much.

“So we fight with them?” Vivi had a smirk, tossing her snowball in her hand gently. “Creative, I imagine we’ll get pretty cold…”

“Yeah.” Nami said cautiously, taking a step back as Vivi took a step forward.

“Alright.” Vivi tossed hers, Nami tried to dodge, turning to run, and catching it on her neck. She let out a unrefined shrill, dusting her neck, catching Vivi raking up more snow. Nami figured it would have been one and done but- 

A second snowball struck her shoulder, and Vivi had on a wide toothy smile.

She scraped a hand down into the early December inches, moving as fast as Vivi, a smile on her own face.

Of course the snowballs didn't keep their well made form for long, as the fighters turned to quantity over quality, until they were laughing, tossing handfuls of snow at one another from either side of the bug. Nami only stopped when she saw Vivi’s lips going blue, and her nose red from the cold.

“You’re cold.” Nami said deadpan, moving around the car.

“W-was that not the point?” Vivi still had a smile. Snow at the ready in her hand.

“Not directly.” Nami took off her scarf, dusting away the snow from Vivi’s neck before it had the chance to melt and chill her further. She wrapped the scarf around Vivi twice. “It was more for fun.” 

“It was a l-lot of fun.” Vivi said, tucking herself closer to Nami. “but…” 

“But what?” Nami asked, still tightening the scarf, and dusting more snow from Vivi’s kaftan.

“I thought the goal was to make eachother cold, so’d you have to warm eachother up.” She gave a blushing smile, before taking another step closer to Nami, close enough that her smile disappeared under her hat. Nami didn't hesitate, opening her coat for the women to come closer, pulling it around the her as far as it would go, holding it on her back. Vivi was shaking cold. Poor girl. 

Nami didnt even consider her hometown advantage on this one. She could Feel Vivi’s hands holding the scarf, pressing against Nami’s chest, and the taller girl did her best to not blush as she stared out at the parking lot. Tried not to think about how this looked, under the cloudy sky. Their only real light coming from the lamppost they stood under.

“I think i like that better.” Nami admitted. That's something Koza would do for sure. Definitely something Crocodile would soften up for. An innocent if intentional misdirection, an excuse to get close without just asking for it.

“Then I'll w-write it like that.” 

Nami eyed the mall. It wouldn't be too packed. And if there were more creeps she’d take care of it.

“Let's go warm up. I’ll buy you cocoa, and then we can try skating on their ice rink.”

“Okay, you ready?” Nami asked, turning on her skates, Seeing Vivi clutching the rails.

“Perhaps this is one experience I could learn from a far? I'm not even sure ice skating existed in our time period.”

“Now now my Prince.” Nami said, sliding a bit closer. “You hail from one desert, but I hail from another. I assure you, we have always danced on the ice.” She took her hands, building slow momentum, sneaking her from the corral, enjoying the blush and awe that came with authors hearing someone quote them. Even if it wasn't a line from the book... yet. It was like a little spark. Pride, and joy. Vivi broke the eye contact, a wide smile on her face.

“You’re good at this.”

“I should be. I’ve been skating since i was twelve.” Nami said, taking them on a lazy glide along the outer edge, away from the only other pair, practicing a rather intense routine in the center. Vivi was watching them with awe. 

“Skating too.” Vivi didn’t meet her eyes. All the better, Nami couldn't stand looking at that cute face for very long. And just what did she mean ‘skating too’? Did Nami dare ask? She looked back, seeing the excitement at watching them spin. No, she didn't want to break the peace. Authors were a dozen kinds of weird. She was the guide for this little lost fawn. Just a guide through the beginning of what was sure to be a wonderful and wildly successful career. Vivi had Chaka. Had money, had talent. She could do anything she wanted. She’d get poached by a publisher with a bigger wallet. Probably even get a movie deal in a few years. Maybe the industry would crush her, maybe not. And it was all beyond Nami’s control.

She was just an editor. A good one. And while Vivi was here, she could-

“I want to spin like that.” Vivi was looking at her now, nervous, curious. The lady wanted to spin. 

“Come closer, hold me here.” Nami pulled her in, placed her hands, instructed her feet, keeping on a polite smile. Wondering what would happen first. Would she burn to death, or would the aching kill her first…

But they spun, slow, careful. And Vivi wouldn't look away. She held on tight as they went. Nami was trapped in the chocolate brown gaze. So trapped she forgot to keep them spinning after a while. They knocked against the wall, Vivi colliding into Nami gently. And the spell was broken. Vivi sighed happily, her head resting on Nami’s shoulder.

“That was so much fun.”

Nami bit her lip, closed her eyes and prayed to anyone listening. She needed strength. Because this was too much… Sanji had not lied when he said there were trials. There were many. Too many.

“Thank you Nami.” Vivi continued, pulled away. Her hands lifted and she tested her own balance. “Look, i can stand now.” she beamed.

That was too bad.

“That's great! You learn fast.”

“Oh please.” Vivi smirked, doing her best to walk. “You did everything for me. I just trailed along.”

“You kept your own balance, shifted your weight at the right time, weren't afraid to hold on tightly, and you'd be surprised how often that's the case.” Nami said, skating alongside Vivi, keeping close at hand. 

“Good traits for a fawn?” She smiled up, Nami smirked and shook her head.

“Maybe for a koala.” She teased. Skating in front of her spinning away. “Since they need to cling onto something.”

“So I should cling on like this?” Vivi took her around the middle, latching on. She said it with mirth, close to Nami’s ear. Nami hadn't been expecting it, she laughed, and Vivi did too. Loosening her grip, but still holding on, trailing. Nami didn't mind. But she spied the photo booth. That wasn't around for the book's time period. 

“There's one more thing for a snow date.”

“What's that?” 

“A souvenir.” Nami guided them back to the corral. She knew she was running low on time. And she didn't want this to end. But the arms around her were making her weak. She needed to run before she lost sight of the meeting entirely.

“And what will our souvenir be?”

Her phone buzzed. Nami went for the phone, but Vivi was behind her, her hand dipped into Nami’s back pocket, ripping the offending device, and silenced the alarm, all the while clinging tighter with her other arm. Vivi hated the impulse alarm. Nami spun around, a smirk on her face, Vivi wasn't looking at her, but thrust the phone out in offering.

“Sorry, i just hate that alarm.” she was cute when she was like this. Blushy, mad, but really more happy than anything.

“Let's get our souvenir.” Nami took her hand, leading her to the photobooth. The lady wanted her impulse, she’d get it.

She was looking the photos over, unable to contain her smile. She looked, seeing Vivi still unlacing her skates. Her phone chimed. She pulled it out, her breath catching at the time. It was Perona. An angry message with too many emoji’s. If she left now she could make it still.

“There.” Vivi had her second skate off. Returning the rental to the man, and making her way over. As predicted the meeting had run long. And Nami felt guilty at the amount of fun she’d gotten paid for. “Successful date, yes?” Vivi grabbed her copy of the photos, absolutely beaming.

“Perfect.” Nami assured. “Absolutely perfect.”

“I don't want it to end. But I've kept you too long.” Vivi was glowing, looking at the pictures.

“All day actually.” Vivi blushed, clutching the pictures close. Nami smirked. Vivi meet her eyes with concern

“I hope i didnt keep you from anything?”

“Well I'm getting a tattoo in a little bit…”

“You won't be late I hope. You don't have to wait if you are, I can get my ride from here.”

Chaka… she felt a surge of jealousy. It came to walls of restraint, the same walls that had been assaulted all day, and it broke them. She wanted Vivi. she didn't want her to go back. At least, not yet.

“Wanna come with?” 

...

Perona glared as the old bug pulled up to the curb side. She was taking a breath ready to yell at Nami when she saw the woman in the passenger seat. There was no way…. She blinked, double checked. She looked like her.

“You coming?” Nami asked, standing from the drivers side. “Were already late, hop in.” that shook her from her daze. She glared at Nami and marched forward, opening the custom suicide doors, and slid in, the paper bag cramped against her.

“Perona, this is Vivi, Author of ‘The Promise of Rain’, Vivi this is Perona, another editor at Sunny.”

“Nice to meet you!” Vivi flashed her a smile. There was no doubt… it really was her. “Everything okay?”

“Ignore her.” Nami said, putting the car in motion. “She’s just nervous, we're going to see her man.”

“Nami,” Perona groaned, squeezing the bag in her lap tighter. “Don't tease.”

“Oh my… you’re smitten aren't you.” Vivi was asking that. Vivi Nefertari in the flesh.To top it off she was concerned. Perona couldn't handle it. She buried her face in the sweater. Took a deep breath. Smelled Usopp again. Relaxed a bit.

“Does he know we're coming?” Vivi asked then, Perona heard her shift away.

“I warned him I was bringing people. Didn't tell him who.”

“Welcome friends of Nami-whoa.” 

Perona’s breath hitched. He stopped cold on seeing her, his eyes running up and down her. Vivi chuckled in the background, and Perona pushed forward, thrusting the bag toward him.

“You forgot this.” She didn't meet his eyes. How could she when he was looking at her like that. 

“You wouldn't let me take it.” He grabbed the bag. “You know, before you kicked me out.” his face soured. She pouted. His daze was gone, and his words...They were deserved. Which did nothing to make them hurt less.

“Whatever. I gave it back didn't I?”

“Right. Well. I'm Usopp, nice to meet you-?” He set the bag on the counter. Extending a hand towards Vivi.

“Vivi, a pleasure.”

That hurt, just pushed aside. Perona felt a lump in her throat. To hide it she huffed, and made for the jewelry case. She caught Usopp give her a look in the glass reflection, then he turned back to Nami.

“Am i free styling today? Or did you have an idea?”

“Uh, whatever you feel like.” Nami stepped forward, also giving her a concerned glance that Perona caught in the reflection as well.

“Alright, let's…” He paused, spoke quieter “could you two meet me in room one?” 

Perona didn't move. She listened to the girls leave. Heard a door shut. It was just the two of them. She looked harder at the mammoth tusk hangers, trying to get her heart to slow down.

“So you just gonna wait out here in the lobby by yourself?” He was leaning on the counter, meeting her eyes in the reflection. She huffed again, running from his eyes by bending lower, moving to an array of plugs. “Why’d you come here?” he was moving closer, his hand slipping onto her arm. “Perona.” he pulled her, gently, just enough to get her to face him. To close. She was gonna burn up.

“I just came to drop off your hoodie.”

“Why…” he shook his head. Held a hand over his mouth. “Why’d you keep it in the first place?”

“Isn't it obvious?” she had a hand on his chest, twisting in his shirt. “I wanted to see you again.” he huffed now, letting go of her arm and grabbing her hand, pulling it out.

“In my experience you don't kick out people you want to see again.” he dropped her hand, but she snatched his in both hers.

“Its not that easy for me… people get…” She took a deep breath, avoiding his searching eyes. “Sometimes they wake up, and…” she bit her lip, biting hard to hold back tears. Her chest clutched so much it heart. “They can be mean… violent.” she spoke quietly, andshook, risking a look at his eyes. “I didn't want to get hurt.”

His anger dropped instantly. He had a look of guilt, and concern.

“Oh… Perona, I-”

“I know, you had no idea.” She groaned, using his shirt to dab at her eyes. “Look i just. I panicked. I'm sorry, but-”

Usopp pulled her in. one hand cradling her head, the other around her waist, and she felt so warm.

“There's a Holiday slasher event in a little theater downtown. Running all week…” He whispered.

“That sounds like fun.”

“Then, can i take you on a date?” He lifted her chin, and her platforms still weren't enough to put her level with him. His hand fell from her hair, his fingertips tracing her spine, and resting low on her waist.

“Are you going to hurt me?”

“Only if you want, and you’ll have a safe word.”

“Oh, what would you pick?” Perona asked, moving to her tiptoes, her arms coming around his neck. His tropical scent intoxicating her, brings her world down to just him.

“Something German.”

She let out a sound she couldn't quite explain and he caught her lips.

“Oh my. I'm,” Vivi cleared her throat. Perona froze, finding Vivi in the lobby, turning away, red. “I'm sorry I was looking for the bathroom, but, uh… sorry to kill the moment.”

Perona pouted, and sank back to her heels. Vivi made to flee.

“Wait. You really are her.” Vivi froze, and looked back.

“You do know me…” she spoke with hesitation. “Then I need to ask a favour. I don't think Nami knows. And i’d appreciate it if you didn't tell her.” Her voice was quiet, but anything but frail.

Perona met her eyes, glared. “What are you afraid of? Nami’s not the kind of person-”

“Another favor.” Vivi said a little louder, but with a smile in place, even if she broke away from Peronas eyes, and looked at the floor. “I don't want to learn anything about her from anyone else either… I'm sure you can tell just as well as I, how nervous she is.” Vivi was smiling. Not like she did for the tabloids, or news articles. Those were always stiff lipped smiles, this was relaxed, warm like a summer day. “I’d hate to know anything she doesn't want me to know.”

“That's a little extreme isn't it?” Perona asked, and Usopp nudged her.

“Coming from you that means little.” 

Her cheeks burned, and squeezed on his arm. “You're so mean!” Perona eased her arms, but kept them around Usopp's arm, and looked to Vivi.

“It might be. But I’ve never had the chance to meet someone so… normally.”

Perona smiled. 

“I hope you have patience.” Because if Nami was anything when it came to love, it was scared.


	7. Hail's Wake Pt. 2

**Hail’s Wake**

_ Part 2 _

Ace sniffed himself as the elevator ascended, recoiled, and added a quick shower to his list. On which the only other thing was sleep… well it should be sleep, it was three A.M. After all, and he hadn't slept in two days. He could have napped at the station barracks. But really it was just a need, deep in his bones. 

He wanted Sabo’s arms around him. Wanted to hold Luffy. Wanted to hear their sleepy welcome home’s, and the soft kisses. And then he wanted to fall asleep, knowing that Sabo would deal with breakfast, and Luffy would sleep in with him. They spoiled him. He knew it. These lazy first day’s home. And damn it he was excited.

The elevator dinged open, and he hefted his heavy pack in one hand, and fished his keys, walking to the door at the end of the hall. He stopped there, looking out the hall’s window, overlooking a bit of the city. There had been a storm while he’d been gone. But he couldn't tell. Figured no one could, with how beautiful the streets and buildings looked, decorated in snow. 

He broke away when the door opened. His heart filled, seeing them both there. Luffy was yawning, tugging him inside, and then silenced Ace’s rising question with a kiss. Sabo closed the door, took his bag, and then took his own kiss while Luffy removed his coat.

“Welcome home.” Sabo broke away.

“How’d you know?”

“Smoky man sent us a warning.” Luffy answered, holding Ace’s arms around himself and pulling him towards their bedroom.

Smoker… well he couldn't regret giving him their number if this is how he used it.

“I-” but he stepped into the room, saw the bathroom light on and caught the scent of roses. Luffy tugged him towards it. Candles, and a steaming bubble bath, rose petals scattered about. Sabo kissed his neck. Peeling away his shirt.

“Let's relax.” Luffy said, undoing Ace’s belt. He removed his pants while Sabo kissed along his neck.

The real seller on this apartment was neither the excellent top floor view, nor the convenient city location. For Ace it was the luxurious oval tub. Wide enough for the three of them to be comfortable. Ace stepped from his pants, sinking into the tub with a sigh of relief.

“I love you both.” He said, his voice pitching odd as the water stung a few of his bruises. Luffy and Sabo kicked aside their bottoms at the same time, following after him, Luffy snuggling his chest tiredly, and Sabo set about rubbing his feet.

“We love you too.” Luffy smiled out, and kissed him again.

…

“So you are recommending a hiring freeze?” Robin asked, and Kalifa nodded. 

“We are losing money, flooding the market with niche work, and we’re already over staffed as is to be a profitable business model.”

“How long can we go at our current pace?” Luffy asked, still looking out the window.

“With the rate of infusions that you’re gifting to our bottom line, about four years before we run you dry.” Kalifa leaned back. Luffy didn't turn around. Robin went for her coffee, meeting Hachi’s eyes across the table. Together they held seventy percent of Sunny’s staff. Which was natural, as Romance and Erotica are the two biggest niches. “The fact is we have consistently lost money since we have opened. We need to-”

Luffy spun about, smile set, and came to the table, leaning on it, his hands splayed. He gave them all a grin and swept their eyes. 

“We started Sunny with a winning lottery ticket. We’ve said every year that we didn't know if we’d be here next year. That's just how it is for us. But the one thing we have never done is turn away those who are drawn to us. When i hired you all, i told you there was no job security. And that's what we have told everyone who has come aboard since. And that's what we will keep on doing. Because if there is a way to do this, to make us profitable, it’s not by turning away eager talent.”

Kalifa gave a knowing sigh, switched which leg crossed over which, and adjusted her glasses.

“I didn't expect anything, as usual. But Mr. Monkey, without a significant boost in revenue, or any efforts to reduce expenditures, we could be gone sooner than four years.”

“I understand.” He sat in his seat at last, adjusting his red tie. “With a mind for that missing revenue, let's turn this over to our Chiefs, Robin wanna start us off?” 

“Of Course.” She passed around the copies of her analytics. “We are on track with every author now for the first Quarter, except one of Mr. Roronoa’s Authors, Kuina. And her book ‘The Greatest Swordsman.”

“Well anyone would be distracted after beating cancer.” Luffy said. “Zoro is a consistent performer, would you wager he makes it?”

“I believe the Author is eager to add the book to her list of accomplishments before the years out. As for the profit estimates, if we could turn to the page seven,-”

“And these will be your desks. Right behind you is Sanji, one of our top editors if you have any questions.” Robin said, and the two men glanced at the Blonde who waved from around his phone.

“Fresh meat?” Nami asked, strolling by, fresh printed pages on her shoulder, and extended her free hand. “I'm Nami, the next Editor-in-chief.”

“Gin,” the man extended his hand, and the man behind him didn the same.

“Marco, glad to meet you.”

“Same to you both.” Nami said out.

“One day…” Robin chided. “For now she’s the top team manager for our department. Feel free to bother her with questions as well.” Robin said out. “Nami these two will be taking over the empty spots on our summer releases.”

“About time.” Nami beamed. “Shouldering that around this year was annoying. I hope you two are ready to work to the bone. Third quarter team doest have a manager right now, but that doesn't mean i’ll let the time tables on any team slide.” She was pointing at them both now with her chapters, glaring. 

“Damn that's intimidating.” Marco had laughed, rubbing his neck, “We’ll do my best of course. Isn't that right?” he laid a hand on Gin’s shoulder.

“Of course. I'm excited to get to work.” 

“Then I’ll leave you to it. Nami can help get you settled in, I'm sure.”

“And where are you off to?” Nami asked, turning on her. “I want details on the year out meeting.”

“Find them something to read, and if you want details, I'm craving Baratie for lunch.” Nami scoffed.

“Alright.” she looked back at the two newbies. “I’ll give you the submission email, let's get your computers set up.”

With Nami diverted, and suddenly free of her new editors, Robin retreated to her office. She closed the blinds that Nami used to spy on her, and sank into her chair. Luffy had gone with the opposite of a hiring freeze. He okay’d more editors, and was encouraging the Chiefs to take initiatives. Which was a gamble. Always was, and Robin didn't like to bet. Publishers found stability in making a little bit of money from many works. Which was great, when you had a large potential revenue group. 

Trilogies were as good as you got in the Niche house. Fans who were consistent for three years. After that who knew what would grab them back in. The readership was spotty even in their subgenres of the Queer umbrella. And there weren't many brick and mortar stores that bought more than a trivial ‘participation’ amount of their books in this city. They had the email list sure, and partnerships with Pride organizations. And their literature department had outreaches with several local schools… but those were free donations.

Four years. Less if Luffy kept ramping up. He wanted a fifth team in romance. Kalifa had been rather bald, announcing that she was going to be touching up her resume. Robin had thought about it too of course. But she was here. And she’d be here until the doors closed. Kalifa was just doing her job, trying to get Mr. Monkey to listen… which Luffy had a hard time doing.

However facts were facts, and she was still decades off from retiring. So they needed money. And for money they needed readers. A lot of them. She threw in her password, taking extra note of the old keyboard today. Fond memories playing over from when they’d first gotten the building. Everything they could get for cheap, workable but second hand. Her monitor, new to replace her old one that had died, was only a decade younger than her keyboard. She pulled out her smartphone, and set it standing against the monitor.

Aside from the unique and irreplaceable satisfaction that came with a keyboard’s key clacking, the phone could do everything the computer could do. More, in fact, as desktops and even laptops were being excluded from accessing more and more websites. The same websites that housed hundreds of influencers with millions of fans a piece. 

In a way she felt like the world's eye was turning away from them. From her. She supposed that it really was, it turned on time. And if you didn't keep up, then you would one day find yourself beyond the peripheral of relevance. Really Sunny’s readership was a concern for the marketing team. Her’s was to ensure that they had top of the line work for those readers. But Robin liked to keep her foot in every door. Something she and Nami shared. And it wasn't to be ignored, that Marketing had yet to find a solution to the readership, despite a website, and a three million dollar advertisement budget for a recent project. She was lucky to get thirty grand for her authors ad budget, and that was generosity of the founder and CEO more than any practicality. 

What they needed was a way to catch up to the world's eye again. The community was growing, but Sunny was being stomped out by giants doing the minimum for inclusion. They needed to get out in front and do some peacocking for the larger public.

She grabbed her phone, opening one of the new apps. Scrolling through a stream of individuals that had been recommended to her. They all had more likes on one image, then Sunny had readers in a year. Why was it these people had so many fans? Some owed their fame to movies, which had been a goal of Sunny’s since the outset. Others for fashion, or the myriad ways one gained internet fame, which Robin had boiled down to one key factor of ‘Be entertaining’. They all seemed to be happy enough to rake in the ad revenue. Which meant that Robin could exploit that. But she had the phone for a week, and if she was already getting tired of the promotional stuff, then the fans were long exhausted of it. They’d need something that would pop. 

The first idea was to publish an influencer's book. But unless she wanted to become a sell out editor, that would require talent, work, and an extra portion of luck that any of these people were aspiring authors looking to make their break in a tiny publishing house. Still, it had been better than her worst estimates of this new world. Many of these people were at the very least in support of the Queer community. Several were members, proclaiming such on their profiles. Something one would not see in the shadow of years gone. What a journey it must have been for some of these people, coming from the world of open abuse and hatred to one of acceptance. And not only that, but being such a front runner to push themselves into the eye of others contempt, only to stubbornly plant a flag on a field of bigot tears and declare victory. Supportive victory.

It’d make a good book…

A very good book. And to partner it with a Queer buissness whose singular focus was to bring the comminuity to the ‘shelf’ physical and electrical. That's a partnership. She rose. She’d need subjects to research. And the best way to do that was to find the people’s heroes. She threw her door open and looked out at the rapt attention of her department.

“Extra homework today. Personal Queer heros you’d read a autobiography on. Due before works out. Alive preferably, and with some modicum of fame.” She said, and marched off toward the CEO’s office.

…

“You’re late.”

Zoro cracked an eye, seeing Saga there waving a clock in his face. 

“M’not.”

“You very well could be if you don't get up. Come on, i'm leaving soon.”

That roused Zoro. He reached out, eager to pull him into the bed. To doze about a bit more. But they hadn’t shared a bed the entire weekend, and Zoro had been remembering times long off. Before it all got complicated. He’d hesitated, frozen mid motion. Saga noticed, setting the clock back down. He smiled, taking his hand and pulled him up.

“Words Zoro, mankind's greatest invention.” Saga teased.

“Aside from swords.” Zoro grumbled, moving to his closet.

“The ones for war, or for love?”

Zoro flushed, throwing the first shirt he could grab at the man. It hit him squarely in the face, but did nothing to dampen the man's laugh.

“Pervert.”

“Absolutely. But you know that, and this abashed side of you, it's cute.”

“Saga…”

“I just meant that it keeps you looking young. The blush and all.”

“Its embarrassing.”

“Alright. I'm sorry.” Zoro finished pulling his hoodie on, looking at Saga. He was still smiling, then the doorbell rang, and he looked over. “That’d be breakfast. We should have enough time before I have to catch my flight.”

“That's why you woke me up.” Zoro said, following the man into his living room.

“Forgive me. But it wasn't wholly selfish, you did sleep through your own alarm.”

Zoro had been hungrier than he thought. Originally he had chastised Saga for getting so much. But the storm had broken the night prior, and the last wispy hail storms had been steadily burning themselves off throughout breakfast. A reward of hope in a sense. If he wanted to be poetic and spin metaphors about trials and struggles and equate them to nature. He’d rather read some poetry, then suffer through writing it on his own. But on days like this, anything was possible, including the second half of his extra large coffee.

“You’ll hate me for saying this, but i like that about you.” Saga said, the remains of his breakfast in the plastic it came in.

“What?” Zoro asked around another mouthful of his breakfast.

“How you sync with the world. You’re steady, regular.”

“You mean predictable.” Zoro sniped back. Saga laughed.

“I told you you wouldn't like it. But really Zoro, if you’re insistent we be old, then surely you’re done with the wild need for unpredictability?”

“A need for stability, but predictability sits wrong with me.” 

“Isn't that just your adventurous spirit?” 

“Probably.”

“Well if coming through a hurricane wasn't enough to sait it, then what will be?” he was still playful, but Zoro hadn’t considered it. He supposed Luffy had been making a deal out of coming here for a reason.

“I'm sure it would have been, but it was less an adventure and more saving you from yourself.”

“Man braves nature to rescue fool from dangerous antics. That's a story, an adventure. Is it not?”

“When you say it like that then of course it is.” Zoro finished the last of his coffee, and cast a disappointed eye at the lack of waiting food. Saga looked at his watch, frowning. 

“My taxi will be here soon.” He rose, setting his smile back in place. “Will you walk me out?”

“Already?”

Saga’s brow rose, and his eyes softened. “I can come back. Every weekend, if you want.”

That sounded expensive and exhausting. He didn't want Saga to have to go through that. “That’d be too much.”

“Oh, of course.” 

“That came out wrong, i just meant, isn't that… wouldn't it be annoying? Doing all the work?” Saga was hefting his bag, looking Zoro over amusedly.

“Not at all. They could be my weekly adventures. I’d look forward to them. And Zoro,” Saga stepped in closer, laying a hand on his shoulder. “We can go at your pace. I can't claim to understand everything you must feel about me… but i can accept the responsibility. I won't ask you for anything more than some of your time.”

“Saga…” Zoro grabbed the man's arm, planning to push it off, fearing he might pull him in. 

“I can never tell what that means.” Saga’s voice was soft, his hand slid in from Zoro’s shoulder, moving to his neck, his chin and finally his cheek. Zoro’s eyes closed, and he leaned into the gesture, desperate for the warmth. The contact. But he pulled away, because it hadn't been Saga that Zoro had heard in his sleepy morning daze. Itd been Sanji. Hurt flicked across Saga’s face, and Zoro caught his hand as he pulled it away.

“I'm sorry… I just…”

“Don't be.” Saga squeezed his hand. “More than anything I want you to take all the time you need. I want to do this right Zoro.”

“Are you ready?” Zoro asked, swerving the wheelchair into Kuina’s room, Doctor Law and a nurse behind him. Kuina was in some of her old clothes, drooping big on her, and she was endlessly excited.

“Yes please, get me out of here! No offense of course. You’ve been wonderful.”

“Please, don't worry, it gives me no greater joy than telling patients to get out. So, get out.” Law smiled.

“Jeez, and I was such a good patient for you.” Kuina pouted, slipping into the wheelchair, and Zoro gave her a coat from home.

“That’s a relative term. I remember several incidents involving bodily-”

“Yeah yeah so what,  _ comparatively _ i was excellent.”

“Well your humor was always well. Now come on, there is fresh snow.” Law held the door open, and Zoro let the nurse, Bepo, take the wheel chair, following his sister out.

“I want to make snow angels!”

“You’ll get sick.” Zoro replied instantly. “You’re cancer free, not invincible.” 

“Boo!” Kuina gave him two thumbs down from where she nearly drowned in her coat.

“If you compromise, you can get away with throwing snowballs at him without retaliation.” Law said from her otherside.

“As if i didn't prepare for this.” Zoro said smugly. “She’ll have no time to throw snowballs.”

“And what makes you so sure?” She asked, and Zoro didn't reply, just watched the floors descend on the elevator.

“I suspect it's something to do with the ride he has arranged.”

“Oh? Who is it? Tell me tell me tell me!” She tried them both. Zoro shared a look with Law. “Come on!”

“Patience.” Zoro called, and right then the doors opened. Zoro watched in delight as his sister went red. She had one weakness. One exploit Zoro had just the right friends for. She was weak for hosts.

“There you are lovely!” Ace called, his hair styled into lazy curls, combed to one side, in a fitted three piece, with a weather ready coat slung over one arm. Sabo to his side in a black suit with gold pinstripes. He had his top hat in one hand, a huge bouquet of flowers in the other. And then there was Luffy, a skinny red tie disappearing into a double breasted black suit, and he wasted no time scoping her up in his arms.

“Finally you are coming home. We’ve missed you.” 

Zoro swore he saw the start of a nosebleed on his sisters face, but he couldn't confirm it as the boys closed in on her, to the envy and open gawking of Merry general’s lobby.

“This isn't fair!” Zoro caught her glare briefly, but he shrugged it off as she was carried towards the waiting limo Luffy had rented. Because of course he would.

“Those are the boys she talks about?” Law was gawking. To be fair there were very few who didn't do that when three power houses of beauty walked around together like the boys did. 

“Careful Doc, flies will move in.” Zoro teased and the doctor colored slightly, and adjusted his glasses to cover it up.

“Not what i was expecting. She talks of them warmly, but like they are buffoons.”

“They are. Trust me. But for short amounts of time they are fine in the public.” Law smirked, still looking after them and Zoro just shook his head.

“You know that they-”

“Kuina does overshare.” Law said.

“Then you know that itd be-”

“I have no intention of stepping beyond a professional boundary Mr Roronoa. However I fully intend to daydream. And the longer you stay here the longer I have to enjoy my leering.”

“And that's not stepping over the boundary?” Zoro asked sarcastically. 

“I could leer at you, if you are so jealous?” Law said, running his eyes over Zoro.

“Not real picky are you?”

“I'm a manwhore with no shame.” Law replied, a step closer. “She does overshare really, if you were needing a palette cleanser…” 

“Gods i'm going to kill her.” Zoro said, glaring at Law, who smiled back with a sarcastic grin. “No dammit. Fuck i'm leaving.”

“Intresting word choice.” Law called after him.

Zoro ignored it, blushing red and stormed out, the driver opening the door for him, and he slid in, finding Kuina under one of Sabo’s arms, her feet on Ace’s lap. He took a seat next to Luffy, who was hiding something behind his back.

“What?” Zoro asked with a glare. Luffy only smiled. Zoro cast his eyes at Ace and Sabo, and was met with the same sinister smile. Finally he meant Kuina’s eyes. “What is so-” the snow ball was smacked against his neck, and Luffy made sure to get the snow down his shirt. “You son of a-!” Luffy had a second, and smashed it against his face with a laugh. Zoro was still for a moment, and wiped the snow off with one hand. “Traitors.”

“So who was that cute doctor that wouldn't stop eyeing us?” Sabo asked, his hand rubbing at Kuina’s shoulder with massage precision. Zoro would know, Sanji had forced him to frequent that one massage house back then.

“Doctor Law. A fan of my book, and a fan of yours.” she replied.

“I hope you only told him flattering stories.” Ace said, rubbing her feet. She looked like she was experiencing nirvana. Zoro leaned back, more confident that this had been the right move, despite the involuntary shivering.

“Oh no specifics, just enough to let his mind drive him crazy.” She gave an evil glare and Luffy laughed.

“Poor guy…” Luffy spread his arms out, and looked over his shoulder out the back window. “He was kinda cute.”

“Please don't clot up with my sister's doctor.”

“Please do.” Kuina shot back instantly. Zoro gave her a pointed glare.

“Don't fetisize my friends.”

“Hey, there's nothing wrong with wanting several people to be happy.” she crossed her arms.

“You’re shipping them.”

“So am I.” Luffy said from beside him, with a glassy eyed look.

“Luffy, just…” Zoro sighed. He looked around, saw everyone having a good time, and relaxed. He dug in his coat, and felt for the small case there with incense and offerings. Even now the limo headed for where their father's grave rested. Kuina was talking with Luffy, Sabo and Ace were making faces, having an entire conversation silently, and he watched the world go by. Wondering how he was going to explain to her Saga’s visits. In fact, how was he going to explain it to any of the four people in the limo? At least Sabo should be happy that he wasn't chasing after Sanji.


	8. Artic Desert

**Arctic Desert**

_ Then dear Mother packed the snow, _

_ Tight against our bruised prides, _

_ Around our inflamed hearts, _

_ Like a blanket to numb the pain, _

_ And our fingers too. _

Usopp was close to pulling his hair out. He’d made a new account on Reddit, asking questions to the femboy group. He really didn't know much about Perona when he got right down to it. He wasn't sure, she liked to be referred to as a she/her, but she had also mentioned that she had no intention of getting surgery. Said that she rather enjoyed her ‘knight’. Its not that he had a problem, aside from his confusion on the matter. The last few dates had proved that he was rather… invigorated by the trick. But-

_ ‘You’ve got a fetish, my suggestion, enjoy your new porn genre, but if you go after someone like that, your relationship won't last.’  _

Well that certainly wasn't a very encouraging comment to his post. Still, Usopp could agree that this was a fetish. But he wanted it to be more. It seemed like every date ended with him in her bed. Normally he would be flaunting his luck, or rather skill… luck. Normally he would, but was sex his goal? Was sex what made him able to just turn off twenty-seven years of hetrosexuailty? And without it would he suddenly snap out of the Perona daze he found himself in even now? Sitting at his computer at three in the morning with his first appointment at the shop at nine? If he did snap out of this daze, would he suddenly be repulsed by her?

No, of course he wouldn't, He’d met Luffy, listened to one to many stories of his to be repulsed by anything involving dick. So if equipment didnt matter, in his bed or in gender, and she was a girl, then wasn't he straight? Like biologically gay, but striaght in a relationship sense? And what the hell was a gay relationship compared to a straight one? What were the differences really? 

His head hit his desk and he was pulling his hair again.

_ ‘Perhaps it's not a fetish like the person above says, do you feel an attraction to anyone else in the community, or just this one special ‘person’ you refer to?’  _

He reread the post, not bothering to lift his tired head from the desk. Did he find others attractive? Good enough starting place. He started to scroll the forum. The people were beautiful, sure, and he had waited for Perona to  _ finish _ getting ready often enough that he could appreciate the sheer effort some of the posters put in for just their photo. He thought it was kinda foolish at first, reading that they didn't have the confidence to go out in an outfit, when they passed so well. But he just had to think back to those thugs that had been after Perona. She passed every day it seemed. Not easy work.

He shook his head, looking back at the pictures. There was a thrill he couldn't deny, knowing that these people had knights under their skirts. As for attraction? Sure, this one in the pink skirt was cute, kinda short, which was a bit hard to tell. But they fit his usual, or old type.

He opened another tab, and went to his usual fap site. Seeking out some old favorites and watched.

Nothing. Not even a twinge, until one position reminded him of the other night with Perona, after their slasher film date when she’d… well now he had another problem aside from insomnia…

His fap-favs hadnt done it, the pictures of the femboys had been better but still hadn’t done much. But one memory with Perona and now he had this… what the hell did that mean? He hadnt totally fetishied her had he? Could you fetishize something so far that it was narrowed to one person? Wouldn't that be the creepiest shit in the world? Wouldn’t that be so wrong and disgusting?

He didnt know… he wasn't a member of the queer community. He was just an ally, or was trying to be, at least. He wasn't sure how the scales would balance if he was fetishing Perona, when his main claim to allyship was painting over some hate with a bit of love, and running off some thugs. He fell asleep there, hands resting on the keyboard, debating the words to the reply he never sent.

…

“No Sir. Yes sir. Yes sir.” Gin was in the corner, his voice low while on his phone. Marco was sitting next to him, rubbing his shoulder supportively. Robin tried not to eavesdrop as she got her coffee. She had considered leaving and returning, since another pot was in need of brewing, and the look on her editor's face was a dead give away for shame. She caught Marco’s eyes and he’d nodded at her with a kind smile. She’d returned it, and did her best not to intrude while she took the time to make a new pot.

“I am at work right now, yes sir. Yes Marco is here, would you like to talk to him?” She heard the phone shuffle, and the deeper voice of Marco.

“Hello Officer.” Robin raised a brow, and began pouring her cup. “Yes. actually i think we are fitting in rather well. No we havent, not besides the man who hired us… I agree we should, but its important for us to feel comfortable to, right?” Robin cast a glance back at the table once more. Gin caught her eyes and flicked his to the creamer on the table, next to the sugar. He practically was folding in on himself in embarrassment, while Marco still rubbed his shoulder supportively. She grabbed two more mugs, and poured the coffee. She’d found a kindred soul with Marco’s love of black coffee, the sugar was on the table for Gin already. 

Marco stared at her as she brought over the coffee, continuing his conversation without looking away. She ignored it while she gave Gin his coffee, sliding it under his eyes before she finally caught his attention. He jolted as if she was a lioness on the hunt, before regaining his composure. She gave a smile.

“I saw Nami approved the submission you wanted. You’ve done well getting an author so fast. Make sure you set a meeting with them before you leave.”

“I’m approved? Oh gods!” Gin’s eyes went wide, and his smile climbed high. Robin smirked.

“Well, you have to buy it for only thirty-five hundred. We aren't rich. But if you can do that, then yes. You’ll be on the timetable.”

“Fuck yeah.” he muttered, then looked to regret his words. “Sorry.” Robin laughed lightly, and left. Feeling Marco’s eyes on her.

Brook… Robin admitted that from all her department's submissions, she’d found Sanji’s the most intriguing. Once a musician, now a movie star. Went through a adolescence of sexual identity struggle, living through the Aids era of hate and discrimination. What's worse, she had pieced this together, much like Sanji had, digging through newspaper records, trudging the fact from hate and drama. And there was a death. Someone only referred to as Yorkie. Lover rumors, but the fact was that this Yorkie was the first to give Brook a record deal, when doing so could have destroyed his business. Beyond that there is no mention of him. And to top it off, It’d all happened here in loguetown. 

Brook lived out of the city now. Always close to the cameras, as is natural of a rising star. But she wanted this project. She would need a masterful pitch, the best of her career, to even be considered for some of Brook’s time. And she wouldn't have the budget to compete with zero’s against the movies.

Somebody knocked and she’d realized she’d just been staring at the little toy car on her desk.

“Come in.” the door opened, 

“Hey Chief, can i have a minute?” Marco.

“Of course.” 

He closed the door, and stood in between the chairs. “About the phone call-”

“Please, you don't need to explain yourself to me.” She started.

“-i’d like to thank you. Gin, he needed that boost today, and i think it helped that you did it when you did… and I know you're sharp. Sooner or later you’ll put it together, so i’ll save you some time. The short and simple is we’re on parole. Work release program-”

“Really Marco.” Robin said, “Please feel no need to explain yourself to me. I have no intention of making you or Gin prove anything. I need no explanation. Everybody here has a story they’d rather not share. And just as you would not go digging into their past, they will not dig into yours.”

“I… should feel more skeptical of that. We’ve suffered missteps in previous employment. Neither of us ever thought we’d actually get to use these degrees. More than ever I don't want to ruin our opportunity here by hiding anything.”

“I see you intend to answer any question that comes.” 

He nodded.

“You are a very steady individual. If you are also a good editor, then all other things aside you will have a career here. And the only favour we at Sunny ask, is that you drive your hardest to help us turn a profit next year. And Gin, despite his nervousness, is ahead of you on that count.” 

Marco smiled. “He is, isn't he… i think i’ll go play catch up. Thanks chief.”

“He is lucky to have a friend like you.”

“I'm luckier to have him.” Marco was looking over his shoulder. “Something to be steady for, a goal of any kind, is a magnificent stabilizer.” the door closed. She looked back to the toy car. She still had the phoenix. A part of her didn't want to give it away. They’d had their first ride together in that car. Their pleasant little pause. But already she was missing him. And this was only the first week of the drought. The one that came every time she got a finished car back.

And really, the bright flashy colors weren't her style. Purples or black. So it’d make sense she’d trade it out faster.

But would that be rejecting his advance in a way? Thanks for the memory, I already ditched the car?

However keeping the car was more of a rejection wasn't it? Only seeing him when it needed a tune up or a part changed… maybe it did have something wrong that she could- she shook her head. Trying physically to disrupt her train of thoughts.

She wanted to see him. She could admit that to herself. The problem was she had no excuse to do so. She wouldn't for a month. That was the soonest she could see herself giving away the car. It'd be the new year by then. 

She took a deep breath. Being driven around the storm’s eye was actually a wonderful memory to end the year on. If she could just remind herself of that enough, then maybe, just maybe, this drought could be survived with dignity. Although, there was nothing against owning more than one car, was there? No… she could kiss dignity goodbye if she did that. 

She faced her work again. Being buried in work sounded wonderful right then. She did have a magnum-opus pitch to plan after all. 

“So what's the plan after this one?” Sanji asked, leaning on the hood of his car.

“What do you mean?” Robin turned around, leaning against her car to meet his eyes.

“With your mechanic, after you break down and trade the car out for another project, just back to usual?”

“Its unlike you to pry.” 

“Its unlike you to deflect, so blatantly at least.” Sanji had a smirk on, and leaned on his windshield. 

“Certainly an interesting day indeed. What prompted such a question?”

“That whole saying, better to love and lose than never love.” he waved a hand for emphasis, the smoke from his cigarette wafting in curls in the air.

“You know i don't like betting.”

“That paint job wasn't cheap. And I know you didn't request it. Which means he did it for free. Plain as day that makes two things certain beyond chance. One, that he has no idea what your style is.”

“And two?” she said when he didn't continue.

“I can't tell you that. Gods know Franky is shouting it loud enough for the whole city to hear though.” He hopped off his hood, crushing the cigarette under his foot. He gave another long and appreciative view at her car, before disappearing into his own. “Good night Robin.”

“Good night Sanji.” she said on instinct, and finished unlocking her car. He left first. Giving her time to sit, looking at the passenger seat. It was easy to see how Sanji thought. And She had told him about the drive. It’d be plain to anyone by now.

There was a reason she called them firsts… she knew what was happening. Enjoying it even. But she wasn't convinced it’d been anymore different than the rest of her attempts at dating.

It was common, natural for the stream of firsts to ramp up to a point where clothes were no longer necessary. And that is where the firsts would end. She had watched the attraction die out in men’s eyes the second they had seen her. She wasn't eager at all to see what kind of man Franky would be.

Would he be the polite kind, shocked with offers to talk and ghost her afterwards?

The silent steed, who would try and finish the job before finding it too much to handle, leaving mid session never to be heard from again?

The asshole, who bails instantly, harsh words said with a fool's cadence? 

She wanted to find out that answer as late as possible.

…

“Hey sis, you got a minute?” Zoro asked, knocking on her door lightly

“Hardly, get in here.” she ordered.

He listened, finding her in an old outfit, one of her favorites if he recalled right.

“How am i supposed to even leave the house, when nothing fits! Everything just slides off me now.” that's right… Sanji was taking her out today. The party was coming up soon.

“Just ask Sanji for a hoodie. He’d jump at the chance, and the whole boyfriend hoodie thing is on the up trend.” She looked shocked. “What?” He asked, unhappy with the way just just maintained her face and stared at him

“I just… i mean it's a good idea. I just didn't expect you to suggest it.”

“He’s my ex, not the devil. And your friend, my coworker even. We are gonna talk about him at some point. It's not that weird.”

“Huh…” She said, grabbing for her phone, no doubt texting Sanji.

“Huh, what?” he asked, crossing his arms.

You’re a lot like snow really.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Nothing, what do you want?” 

“Right…” he muttered, then shrugged. He had a long uphill fight, he might as well get started. “I need you to keep an open mind about this.”

“Okay…” she set her phone down. Ignoring its vibrations as no doubt Sanji was replying. “I'm listening.”

“It’s about Saga.”

“Zoro…” she tilted her head, looking at him with tired concern.

“Just listen. Please.” he met her eyes, and she took a long, disappointed breath.

“Okay.”

And she did, with a stillness fitting statues. Unmoved as he explained the apology. Answering unasked questions in an attempt to make it make sense to her, what he was feeling. He finished with the breakfast. And still she looked sorry for him. So he didn't bother to tell her he walked Saga to his taxi. He just stopped. Her passiveness was too much for him. She looked like she was bored of the story. Sorry for Zoro. that's what it was.  _ Pity _ . His sister was giving him  _ pity _ . He felt the rage boil, but in place of an explosion, he had tears.

“What? What is it? What am i too stupid to see?” he shouted. She didnt even flinch. She just wiped her own tears.

“I hate him so much Zoro… I hate him in a way that it infuriates me that you won't or can't see it. That you can't see past him. Damn it… do i have to spell it out for you?”

“Please!” Zoro growled, running a hand through his hair.

“He fucked you up from the start, and built his nest in your heart with apologies. That's him, that's what you get! Scars and sorries, is that your love story Zoro?”

He let out a whine, and slumped to his knees. She was winded from her fury, not meeting his eyes. He was expecting a talk. But he’d let himself get heated. A part of him wanted to insist Saga meant it. But he’d never doubt Kuina. Add on the rage of confusion and he felt like puking.

“I don't like _ it _ .” he turned his head away.

“Neither do I.” She faced her vanity, and he caught her rubbing her bald head in the mirror. “But broken hearts and broken bodies draw it the same, like it's our magnetic opposite. But it exists. So we must learn our way through. Or risk losing ourselves.”

Zoro laughed. “You sound like dad.”

“That's because i listened to him. You didn't hear him the first time.”

“Dad never took me aside and taught me how to deal with heartbreak.” he huffed.

“He planted seeds. Things he wanted you to meditate on, so they’d grow into trees, with many branches.”

“That's why you are the writer.” He laid back, absentmindedly watching her get back to Sanji. “Flowery imagination…” 

“I know its lonely right now. And I know you are feeling like the world is fucked up, or that you’ve fucked up. I think we are both in places where our lives are about to be decided by our next few moves. Can we do this? Will it ever be normal again? Will we find our happiness and peace? But I can promise you one thing Zoro. No matter how desperate i get, i'm never running back to my cancer.”

Zoro gave a laugh, that came out like a sob. And he took a shuddering breath.

“What do you think normal people do?” his voice cracked and he didn't care. 

“Get a rebound maybe, i haven't been a normal person in a while.” she said. Then her phone rang, announcing the arrival of the sweet blonde guy that was treating her out. “That's just the advice Law gave me about the first book. So take it with some salt.”

She rose from her bed, and carefully stepped over him.

“If your going to nap in my room, you can use the bed.”

He waved her off.

“Carpet’s comfy.”

She laughed and left. He listened to her lock the deadbolt, and heard her faint footsteps disappear. He was half asleep already. Exhausted by his emotions already. He really had no endurance with them. Perhaps there was some way to train that… Ace would know. But Zoro didn't want to see Ace and the boys. He didn't want to do anything just yet. He wanted to sleep.

It had been almost two months since he and Sanji had ended things for good. Two weeks ago he had been handling Saga, three days ago his sister had giving him a reality check, and now-

“Roronoa Zoro.” He looked up, meeting Doctor Law’s eyes. “We are ready for you now.”

He rose, his t-shirt tight on his chest, its v-neckline diving deep enough to show off his collar bones, and just a hint of his toned chest. His favorite jeans, just tight enough on the back to catch the eye. Law made no move to hide his staring. Not even when Zoro passed right by him. Law’s eyes combed over every inch of him. Zoro felt a little win in his heart. That was hunger in the doctor's eyes.

There was just a bit of hesitation. What good would a rebound really do? And what if Law found this all to be-

The door shut, and locked. Zoro’s heart raced a little. Law had a small, teasing little smirk.

“I didn't expect you to remember that I did clinic hours on fridays.”

“I remember you fill them out at the end of your shift.” Zoro leaned on the bed, arms resting behind him, because like hell was he going to just surrender to that hunger. Law leaned against the door, crossing his arms, his smirk growing.

“Then you’ll also remember me saying i don't have any intention of crossing that kind of line.”

Zoro pushed himself onto the table, spreading his legs, and leaning back, letting his shirt ride up, exposing his abs. He threw his arms behind his head.

“Then don't… i'm just here for a check up, to make sure my body is healthy. That i'm satisfying all its needs.”

“I see…” Law pushed off from the door, moving to the bedside. His fingers moved under Zoro’s shirt, and he hissed at the cool touch. He moved the shirt up over his chest, and fingers traced ran over his chest, then they found their way far enough south that Zoro involuntarily moaned, jerking at the touch. Zoro watched Law bite his lip. “You’re starved.” 

“Yeah?” Zoro said, his hands below him as he pushed up towards Law. “Can you help me?”

Law growled, and grabbed him by the belt, pushing him flat again,his fingers going under his pants and briefs. Zoro bucked his hips, moaning again. Law’s free hand moved to cover Zoro’s mouth. “Don't expect any relief here.” his voice was teasing. He was close, he had undone Zoro’s belt, the zipper going down was the only noise aside from his own panting.

He didn't like the look in Law’s eyes, the evil smirk and the way he palmed Zoro's member was already too much. Zoro felt a thrill rising in his spine and he couldn't help himself from reaching out, grabbing the doctor by his coat's lapels, and bringing him for a needy kiss. Law pushed him down again, and he moved in, biting Zoro’s ear.

“I’m off in twenty five minutes… think you can survive that torture?”

“Do you live far?” Zoro muttered, squirming, more pleased by Law’s weight on him than worried.

“Not terribly.”

Zoro couldn't respond anymore. He moaned, bit his lip and looked away.

“I didn't take you as somebody who’d mark so much.” Zoro spat, running his hands along his chest. Law was laying nude, smoking a clove.

“I didnt take you for such a desperate little sub. But that's the world.” Law drew deep, the cherry on his smoke glowing in the moonlight room. And as bad as it was Zoro found that he’d missed the smell of smoke.

His fingers found a particularly bad mark, tender to the touch on his right leg, nestled high on his inner thigh. He was still sweaty, and the cracked window wasn’t letting in the cold air fast enough.

“Not that i particularly care, but what do you plan on telling your sister about this?”

“I wasn't planning on telling her anything.”

“Just a rebound from Sanji then?” Law asked, with a laugh in his voice.

“What?” Zoro growled.

“Don't give me attitude.” Law said calmly, drawing on his smoke again, and exhaling away from Zoro. “You’re not the one who was sought out for a simple hook up.” Zoro scoffed.

“I didn't hear any complaining.”

“It was enjoyable, even if I was just a stand in.” Law snaked his hand into Zoro’s hair, rubbing it gently, while his other ashed out his smoke. “Would you consider staying the night?”

“Why?” Zoro asked, then winced. Law’s hand stopped its petting and he huffed, withdrawing it.

“Forget it then.”

“Wait.” Zoro rose, pinning Law with a hand on his shoulder before he could turn away. “I just mean, you said it yourself, about the rebound, so why would you want me to stay?” 

Law’s face softened, and his hand came back to Zoro’s hair.

“It's been awhile since anyones let me be affectionate. Touch starved they call it. And you’re clingy. You don't mind my hands. What more reason do I need?”

“A practical reason?” Zoro suggested with a shrug.

“It’s a lie Zoro. this night. but we are two consenting adults. There's nothing wrong with a lie that ends at sunrise.” 

Zoro flicked his eyes to Law’s alarm. They had hours yet, and it both felt like not enough and too much time. Law tugged his hair gently. 

“Think less, you wanted something. Take it while you can.” and Law closed the distance. Deceitfully soft kisses on his lips, trailing down his chin and neck, while soft hands roamed his back, and bottom, and hips, pulling him in tight. Rolling him so that he lay facing the shaggy haired doctor. Zoro let himself go. Moaning freely into the touches, exploring with his own hands, kissing back, eager to use the time while he had it.

…

Nami looked up as Zoro strolled to his desk. She caught the scent of cigarettes, worse spiced cigarettes. And he looked blissfully ignorant that the office could smell it as well. Sanji had found something intensely interesting in his paperwork to bury his head over just then. She looked in the mirror as he set his scarf and folder down. Robin was looking at her, brows furrowed in concern. Her phone lit up,and she saw it was Perona, and she caught her eyes across the desk walls.

_ ‘I’ve had nightmares like this, i'm scared!!!11!’ _

Nami sighed, rising to follow Zoro to the breakroom.

“Good weekend?” She closed the door with extra force. He narrowed his eyes at her, tried to act nonchalant.

“No complaints.” he muttered, grabbing his favoured mug, handleless and green.

“Aside from the lower back I imagine.” that caught him off guard. “Not many people we know who smoke cloves.”

“What?”

“Don't play dumb, you slept with your sister’s doctor didnt you?” 

“So what?” he put the coffee pot back into the machine, and crossed to one of the three tables. “I'm an adult, I'm allowed my fun.”

“You don't gotta go flaunting it in your ex’s face like that, damn it Zoro Sanji’s shared cigarettes with the man, he knows exactly who you bedded. You couldn't have showered?”

“I did, he gave me a ride.” Nami stepped closer and sniffed his shirt.

“You stayed the weekend... it's soaked in your clothes.”

He pulled his shirt back, and sank into a chair. “So i'm a little out of practice, crucify me, it was Kuina’s idea for a rebound anyways.”

“You’re gonna sit there and tell me Kuina told you to go fuck her doctor?” Zoro winced and gave a half shrug.

“Different words, same meaning.”

“But Law Zoro, really?” 

“Oh fuck off. No Sanji, no Saga, no Law, anyone else I need to check off before people stop telling me who i can be interested in?” 

“Saga?” 

Zoro groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I don't even want to think about him.”

“This is the first i’ve heard of him in a long time.” She sat down, seeing a bit more of his real exhaustion. “What haven't you been telling me?”

“Kuina already tore me a new one, so you can save the lecture.” He leaned back and Nami sighed. 

“I'm supposed to be yelling at you for ruining Sanji’s day… don't go making me feel like the ass here.” She couldnt help but feel for him. “What did he want?”

“To apologize. A real one, i think.”

“You think?” 

“Kuina…”

“Right.” She nodded, and rubbed her sides, they needed a fresh shave. “Did he apologize for blaming you for his arm?” 

“That was my fault-”

“Did he or did he not?” she asked harder. He only stared back. “Zoro, what happened on that boat wasn't your fault. Now did he or-”

“He broke up with Johnny and Yosaku for me… that was enough for me.”

“Enough for you? Zoro, that… tell me this is just your mood, and you're not being serious.” He shrugged.

“I got my flaws.” He sniffed at his own shirt. “Obviously poor taste… I'm terrible at handling relationships.” he huffed out a laugh, sunk further into his chair. “You know I was planning to invite Saga down for the weekend. Instead I… and now it's the worst monday in awhile. And I had myself convinced it had been a fun weekend.”

“You know, if you wanted to have a fun weekend, you could always hang out with your friends.”

He smirked at her.

“I did miss teasing you. I heard in passing, from Perona that you were with your author, post meeting.” he wagged an eyebrow. “How was that?”

“And I thought I was the queen of deflection.”

“Oh is that your strategy?” Zoro had his chin in hand. “Flattery?”

“Is it working?”

“Well, i do get another title, but if you coincide here, I'd have to take Perona at her word. And by her recollection you were a dashing prince, escorting a princess on a romantic outing.”

“ _ In passing _ my ass.” Nami ground out. 

“You’re fighting on the wrong hill.” 

“It was research Zoro. The characters are nobles, princes of a sort, right so that's why-” she stopped herself.

“That's why-” he rolled a hand, “you were roleplaying? I'm not going to kink shame you, you know that Nami.” he hid his grin behind his mug. 

“It wasn't like that, come on! You know authors are weird.”

“What normal editor invites their author to watch them get a tattoo?”

She heated. He was right. She had been caught up in the moment and, now that she thought about it, that must have been boring, who likes to just sit around watching someone stab art onto someone else?

“You're right. She was probably bored out of her mind.” Nami crossed her arms, and threw on a grin. “She most likely only accepted because she’s so nice. But now that she knows I'll waste her time, I doubt she’ll be eager to set another meeting, unless it's truly necessary. Which frees me up from her distractions. All according to plan.”

“Uh-huh… and what did you get this time?” 

She twisted her arm out for him to see, just above her elbow, a pile of snowballs, with two banners that read out ‘Secret Stash’

He frowned.

“Secret stash? Of snowballs?”

“It's a metaphor!”

“For what?”

“Anything, whatever you need, a secret stash of pads, batteries, good days, chocolates, and so on.” he hummed.

“Or snowballs. I like it… guess you haven't told her about the fanart yet?”

“Oh no, you’re not baiting me with that again.” She rose, “You should probably go home and change.” She pulled down another mug, pouring a cup of coffee.

“Wouldn't that just be drawing more attention to the issue?” 

“Right.” She said returning to the table but standing over him. “That's why you’ll need a convenient excuse.” She set the coffee in front of him. His cocky smirk faded.

“Yeah, alright.” he muttered.

“Enjoying cleaning the mess.” she sauntered out, giving one last look at the contemplative Zoro.

She watched with some level of amusement as he exited the breakroom a few moments later, a large dark stain down his white button up, and a glare to anybody who dared stare.

“I'm going home to change.” he said, throwing his scarf around him, and yanking his coat off the chair.

“Monday’s right?” Perona asked, spinning in her chair as he stormed past.

“Uh-huh.” he mumbled, pressing the elevator button hard. He dinged a moment later, Chopper exited with wide eyes as Zoro just shook his head.

“Stay young kid” and the doors closed.

“What's wrong with Zoro today?” Chopper passed her the letter, still looking at the elevator.

“I told you already, the editor's disease. Sometimes it causes shakes, that was his favorite shirt too.” She sighed the pad, and grabbed a fiver from the nearly empty jar.

“You’re kidding?”

“Never…” She stared at him, “that's always the first thing to go.”

“Maybe i should go to med school…” he was staring at the bill. She swung an arm over his shoulder.

“Its the smart move, just imagine all the adorable nurses.” he flushed.

“Don't scare him, he's too cute to run off.” Perona chimed in, resting her head in both hands.

“Ah, i don't know what to say.” Chopper gave a nervous laugh, rubbing his neck, a flush on his cheeks. “Thank you.”

“Run, boy. You still have time.” Nami swung him towards the elevator.

“What?” 

“Nami, no fair, bring him back!” Perona pouted.

“Fly you fool.” she nudged him, he looked between her and Perona, still confused. And then Robin's door opened, and Chopper's eyes went wide. Nami looked back, seeing Sanji, scowl in place, a haggard looking cigarette losing its tobacco little by little as he ground on it.

“He’s succumbing to the illness…” Chopper was terrified, backing up, pulling his shirt over his mouth and nose. “Is it contagious?”

“We arent sure…” she grabbed at her shirt, and coughed. He ran, fleeing down the stairs in his haste. She laughed, leaning into her seat.

“You’re so mean, he is such a sweet boy.” 

“We know Perona, my sweet.” Sanji sat down. “Which is why he must learn to fear an editor's job. Imagine him exposed to the depravity of authors like Moria, Ivankov, And as much as it pains me… Hancock.”

Hancock… yeah she was depraved. Poor Sanji had just the hint of the iceberg with her novels though. Nami opened the letter.

“He is an adult you know. I'm sure he’s popular, he may want to be an editor to find his own depraved niche.”

“No, I won't let you do this, don't try to pervertify Chopper. He is going to be an innocent sweet doctor.” Nami announced

“Even Doctors can be perverts though.” Sanji mumbled, and his face screwed with contempt. Nami looked up from the letter, catching a concerned Gin and Marco, staring at Sanji.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” 

“Nothing, why?” Sanji looked up.

“It sounds like you need a drink. Wanna introduce the newbloods to hungover hump day?”


	9. Party Week Hell

**Party Week Hell**

_ There is no bravery, _

_ Not in love. _

_ It is either Beauty and Opportunity, _

_ Lust and Longing, _

_ Or  _

_ Insanity and Desperation. _

_ Beware all bravery in the latter most of all,  _

_ For its charms are poison, _

_ Its desires selfish, _

_ And It’s thirst endless. _

_ ~Monday~  _

_ Four days till party _

_ “-I assure you, we have always danced on the ice.” _

Nami’s heart fluttered. Though she didn't show it, instead putting on a confidant, nay, smug grin. “I called it.”

“What was that Nami dear?” Sanji poked his head up from his monitor.

“Just called it, about the author adding a line.”

“Ah that's our team lead.” He raised his cup of tea in salute.

“Was it one you said on your not-date?” Zoro asked over the edge of his loose glasses.

“Go to hell and buy me a cold beer.” She bit, smirking as Perona and Sanji giggled.

“You both know that means i'm right, right?” 

“Yes, very impressive. Honestly, any pattern recognition from plant life is impressive.” Sanji said. Zoro glared, Nami rolled her eyes. They had shaken off last week's tension over the weekend. Which Nami was grateful for. Her christmas wish list consisted of two things, a peaceful week and kickass party. She tuned the boys out as they started arguing, and turned off her impulse alarm as it rang out, inking her pen.

“Nami, good, I caught you before you started. Make sure you Invite Vivi to the party.” Robin was wrapping a scarf around her neck. 

“Invite her?” Nami sat straight, “But, she’s new, isn't it-”

“You’re well into draft two now. It's time to get her mingling with the other authors.” Nami frowned. That was fair. Vivi never talked about going out much, and she found the time to handwrite a lot of notes. Half pound letter kind of notes. Definitely introverted behaviour. If she didn't properly socialize Vivi with other authors she wouldn't build a community support network.

But the Christmas Party was a depraved-author attended, fetish filled, free-bar warzone. Nami was already getting her pre-week nightmares.

“She’s too young.” Too pure.

“She’s thirty one.” Robin replied, an amused smile in place.

“This is her first book. It's too soon to expose her.” Nami wouldn't beg, but she could get close. But of course Robin knew her too well, she huffed on her nails, rubbing them on her coat.

“Thank you Nami. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. though it's curious…”

Nami frowned, realizing that Robin was still her boss, and could give her orders, for now.

“What's so curious?” she looked back and her blank letter, crestfallen. The party… Next year she might be suffering pre-month nightmares.

“That you’ve evaded it thus far.”

“Evaded what?” She turned back, Robin was well off down the hall, waving over her shoulder.

“Wait, you still don't know?” Zoro looked up with an amused and confused grin.

“No, tell me?” 

“No!” Perona was standing. “I won't allow it! If you tell her she is going to implode and ruin it!”

“Bullshit, now tell me!”

Zoro, for his part, seemed to consider it. Then shrugged. “Per-snickety is right on this one.”

“You’re kidding… i can just find out on my own.” Nami set the pen aside and pulled forward her keyboard.

“I’d agree with Robin on this… there is a reason you haven't looked it up this far.” Sanji said.

“You too huh?” Nami leaned back, staring at the apologetic looking Sanji. 

“It’s out of love.” Sanji offered, and Nami sighed. 

“Fine… I won't look. But i swear if anything happens at the party to scar this innocent sweet woman, i will kill whoever is responsible.

“Just how much of a maiden are you expecting?” Zoro grinned when she met his eyes. She didn't retaliate, and picked up her pen again.

By Monday evening Nami was reading Vivi’s reply to her invitation. Vivi was declining. Nami should be stressing about the requirement of getting Authors to attend. Not about the sinking feeling in her chest. She had assumed that Vivi would be thrilled to go. Out of the long process that was editing, this was one of the few things that could be considered adventure-ish. Why?

“Oh?” Nami jumped, turning to face Luffy who was leaning over her shoulder… “Vivi doesn't want to come?” Nami felt the table look at her. Damn Luffy just had to announce it. “Did you make it sound boring?”

Nami frowned. “Hell no. i don't know why-” She met Zoro’s eyes. Everyone craved a bit of anonymity. “She’d come if it was a masquerade.” 

“No.” Kalifa appeared. “Absolutely not, the night would no doubt end early due to the debauchery, not to mention there is less than a week. There is no time to update the guests, and even-”

“Then it will be.” Luffy beamed.

“I swear I’ll quit.” Kaflia called at the laughing Luffy, and then stared at Nami with loathing. She’d made another enemy. Oh well. Not like her pay could go down.

“It’ll work out. Make sure to make it sound fun this time! I’m sure she’ll have a blast!” Luffy clapped her shoulder, and walked off. “I’m gonna go pick out my mask!” 

“As a Editor, more so one who envies the chief position so badly, you think you would be more considerate with your words.”

“That's a matter of perspective.” Robin called from her doorway, arms crossed. “Wouldn't you agree Nami?” 

“Perspective.” Kalifa’s voice was a hammer of disdain. “Money is being eaten through at an unbelievable pace, so shortly after my concerns went unanswered, and now loose mouthed editors are prodding Mr. Monkey’s imagination. I’d say let the girl stay home, save the company some money.”

“That's where you're rotten…. So uncute.” Perona chided, and Kalifa gave her venomous side eye. “We make investments in people most of all.”

“Do i even have to mention your numbers, your volume alone is-”

“-She’s in the green profit wise.” Zoro bit. “She’s made the Sunny more money than you have.”

Kalifa clicked her tongue. “What a cute nest.” she bit, clacking her heels as she went. Nami sighed. It wasn't looking good for the peaceful week.

“I suppose i should let Kuina know the dress code has changed.” Sanji pushed back from the desk, “How much are masks this time of year?” he asked, putting the phone to his ear, and typing into his computer.

That was a good question. And one that she should have considered prior to telling Luffy. No doubt that Kalifa wouldn't let Him make it a work expense, even if Nami really thought it should be.

By Tuesday morning She had sent Chopper with another letter. She wondered while she waited, if it was impatient of her to include what exactly Luffy’s Masquerade would be. Full costume, masks. And to ensure it, she had added on the idea of using a Pen Name for the party, as well as assuring her she was allowed a plus one. After all there was no better time to choose one, than before the first book. Pen names that was. Nami face palmed.

She shook it off, and went about her work. She would know soon enough if Vivi would be attending, and by consequence, if she had just wasted Luffy’s money or not.

…

_ ~Tuesday Night~ _

_ Three days until the party _

“The what?” Perona asked, holding the cultist’s shoulders, and Usopp stepped back, looking at the blood soaked floor, bodies strewn about. Usopp had long since claimed the ritual daggers, putting them far away from the apparent cult leader.

“From the nether world, the old, the forgotten, they come!” the woman was rambling, hands in her hair, her eyes intense and wild. “Run from the sun, it is his prey. Prey we are, prey we are, prey we are!”

Perona shrieked, and shrank back from the woman, colliding with Usopp. He grunted as he hit the wall, the woman stalked forward, staring at them both and Usopp was nearly screaming, until her eyes diverted, suddenly fixated on something in the darkest corner of the red lit room. Usopp rubbed Peronas back until she quieted down, and looked at the candle, burning down to their doom. It wouldn't be long now. Usopp started to shake, wondering how it’d gotten like this.

“I can't get her to go back. She’s completely gone. What are we going to do?” she had fisted her hands into his coat. He scanned the bodies and blood, the cult leader mumbling to herself in the darkest corner. The door was still barred by the last heavy chain, and the key to its lock was in a code box. The candle, with its light waning and flickering from its table center of the room, slowly burning out, counting down their time left alive. Then last to the table behind him, filled with the knives, and the cryptics scrolls with foriegn, eldritch characters etched into them. Somewhere in that mess was the code.

Funny, now that the light was leaving,they almost seemed to…

“Run from the sun!” He shouted, snatching the papers and crouching. “Stand here.” He tugged on her frilly dress, blocking the candle. He flicked his phone's flashlight on, holding it over the papers, and then flicked it off. Four of the five papers had numbers. Two on each. Perona grabbed the code box and pulled it down to his level while the ramblings from the cult leader began to ramp up, only now more guttural, sloppy. The poison no doubt kicking in. Usopp was punching in combo after combo, but with eight numbers and only needing four, each one was denied. Perona grabbed the papers, and rearranged them on the floor. 

“Like this!” she shouted, and looked to the candle, nearly out. The left numbers ran one through four. The room was so dark that she had to illuminate the code box. Usopp wiped the sweat from his brow, typing in the code. 

He sighed as it beeped open, snatching the key and running for the door, he fumbled with the key, Perona shouted behind him to hurry. He heard the thud of the cult leader, and twisted the key.

The chain dropped with a deep horrid clang. Usopp pushed out, falling over as Perona attempted to push past him. He lost his balance and grabbed her, bringing them both to the ground.

“Ow.” she moaned, pushing up, still fully on top of him. Usopp opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the timer on the outside of the room. They’d beaten the room. With a second left. He was panting, sweaty, and terrified. 

“We won!” he sighed. That perked her up, he knew by the way her weight came back.

“We did it! How much time did we- Oh my gods!” she pulled him up so he was sitting, and nearly tackled him back down in a hug. “I was so scared! It was so realistic!”

“I told you I knew a place.” he said.

“But the blood was so accurate! And the smell, oh the horrid immersive, nightmarish smell, and the textures!”

“Yeah,” he cocked his head. “I don't know why you had to touch the elder meat.”

“Oh i'm glad it wasn't really real. But also, I totally clutched up on the code breaking.” She said, sliding off of him, and standing. Usopp stood as well, noting the eyes on them from the waiting players. No wonder they had charged him a premium for the two player round, everyone in line were grouped in packs of eight.

“True you did. And the second chain.” he slipped his hand around hers, and she pulled him close, taking a selfie, low, catching the timer in the photo. Kissed her cheek right before she snapped the picture, and snatched the phone before she saw the photo.

“Hey, wait! Don't look, I don't know if I look good in it! Seriously!” she cried and he cackled and moved towards the door, looking at the picture, holding it up out of her reach. 

The picture was… he didn't have words for it. She looked how his chest felt right then. The light of the place made her eyes pop, shiny, and her lips were parted, her peace sign faltering, and her cheeks red as he kissed her. He stopped right outside the venue, sending the picture to himself before handing the phone back.

“You brat! You know I have terrible photogenic luck, and you’ve already sent it! What if i look ug-”

“You look beautiful.” Usopp grabbed her hand, kissing its back, and pulled her in, zipping up her coat while she stared at him, picture forgotten. He smirked as he topped out the zipper, using the tassel to pull her in. He wouldn't lie, there was some evil joy in leaning down into the kiss. Today she was a foot shorter, with low heels instead of platforms. She pushed back into the kiss, taking breaths, and turning her head to get a better angle, introducing tongue, before batting his chest with her free hand lightly.

“Jerk, you're distracting me!” she looked back to her phone. He waited and watched with joy as her scowl melted into a small smile.

Perona didnt smile alot. Scowls, frowns, glares, she could say it all with a look. But her smiles were like tiny moments of… perfection. And he couldn't help but want to see more of them.

“You really are you know.” he wrapped an arm over her shoulders, looking down at the picture with her.

“I'm glad you think so. It's hard work after all.” they stared walking the wonderland city, cold as it was pretty. They were only a few blocks from her place, he noted as such as they turned onto her road. Halted construction on half the street, tearing up the once pristine double row of trees. And on their left, townhouses until the light, then a corner store, and the start of the apartment cluster. 

Hard work. Usopp knew it was, even if he didnt know how much. And she was always passing. He knew Perona passed at work, and on all their dates. Most likely for the little stuff to. He couldn't help but wonder if she did it at home too. He wanted to find out. Wanted to see if she rushed to the bathroom first thing in the morning to fix her bed-head, even when he wasn't there. No, she probably did it at the make-up desk she had.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” she was closer, pressing herself to him, looking up while he gently guided them down the sidewalk. He could be honest. Wanted to be because he knew she would blush. And he really liked her blushes as well.

“I wanna see you with bed-head.”

“What? Why would you want to see that?”

He shrugged, smile in place because he was right. “I think it’d be cute.” she sighed into his arm, still heated.

“It… looks terrible.” she muttered.

“You’ve seen mine.”

“That doesn't count!” she hit the crosswalk button. “The afro just smushes and bounces back. But mine gets knots and nests. Totally uncute.” there was more she wasn't saying. She had that same look she’d had at the tattoo shop. The crosswalk beeped.

“How about early morning you? Pre-coffee, rubbing at your eyes, and still warm from bed.”

“You’re fixated on my morning looks… you're not still mad i kicked you out are you?” she looked up, and he met her eyes, bringing them to a stop. He bent down, kissing her head.

“Not at all.” A hand rubbed her cheek, and his heart jumped with how she leaned in, relaxed.

“Good.” she sighed. But he could tell she was still troubled as they moved again. Biting her lip and looking anywhere but at him.

“You’re anxious.” he rubbed her shoulder with the arm over her shoulders. They were approaching her house now. By this time on their other dates they had been spinning down the sidewalk, bumping into trees and mailboxes, and the small brick building fronts, kissing, blind to their surroundings until Perona had gotten the key into her building and whisked him off to her lair.

“Its nothing.” she smiled, stopping them in front of her building. She looked at it behind her, and then to him, only now the worry was taken over by want. Her hands snuck under his coat. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“I'm glad.” Usopp said, his hands slipping to her waist, bringing her in until there was no space at all. He snuck a steadying breath, recalling his reddit insomnia, and the promise he had made to himself to do this right. He could already tell her intentions. If he didnt take control of the situation, he’d lose control fast. So he made the first move, diving for a kiss, but placed it on her cheek, and withdrew to a confused goth. Then he pulled back, putting just a step of space in between them, still holding her.

“You don't want to come up?”

“Trust me I do.” he started. “But i just… feel like i need to prove that i wanted to spend time with  _ you. _ That i wasn't doing this just for  _ that. _ ” her eyes widened, and he saw the start of tears in them. His chest went hollow and he moved in, catching the first one before it fell. “Whoa, i-” but he was silenced by her lips smashing against his. She advanced on him, pushing until he was backed against a tree, and still she tried to get closer, breaking for air only when his lungs were on the end of their endurance. Even then he managed to get little air before she was on him again, wet drops pelting his coat.

“Say it again.” She was tugging at him, keys out and he wondered what he had missed, he could still taste her chapstick and before he knew it he was up the stairs, and through the door, pressed against the elevator.

“That I wanted to spend time with you?” he tried, and she hummed into the kiss. The elevator dinged open and they spun in, as they had rehearsed recent nights.

“Again.” she begged, breaking away only to smash a hand against her floor button.

“You.” he said, grabbing her arm, control long gone.

“Me.” She looked drunk, but fierce. “I'm not all waxed bikini lines and soft legs.”

“That's fine.” he said, looking her in the eye, before biting down on her neck. It drew a moan and he relished how she tensed and shuddered.

“I'm not always all dresses and make up.” she said as if to warn him. He pressed her against the wall, his hands pushing her frilly dress up by the handful, grabbing her bottom, feeling the lace silk and losing his mind.

“Less is more.” he whispered next to her ear, hefting her into his arms. Her breath caught and he seized the moment, taking her lips again. The elevator dinged again and he carried her to her door. Holding her against it, not releasing her lips for even a second as she fumbled blindly with the lock.

Her house was dark, but he knew the path. Her bedroom door lay open, and she broke the kiss as they passed the threshold. 

“Stop.” 

he did, instantly, setting her down carefully. She was panting, and even in the dark he could see the hunger radiating off her. And his pants hid nothing. She had a finger against his questioning lips, and looked behind her. “Just...One minute.” she said, and pulled away, disappearing to her bathroom. 

He heard the water running, a zipper being undone. He removed his coat, unlacing his shoes immediately after, and then took off his shirt, the entire time watching the door. When his pants and socks and underwear had gone as well, he moved to the bed, waiting. 

Another minute and the door opened, there, awash in the golden glow of the light behind her, Perona, nervous, and naked aside from her knee socks. Her make up was gone, the color and shine replaced by smooth skin. She had never done that around him, exposed her real jawline, and the placement of her cheek bones.

“I… have aggressive facial hair. And back hair and its not always easy to pay for waxing… i'm not smooth skin, and soft curves under it all, my morning after, my weekends, i'm not the woman you see on the street, i really am-”

“-you.” Usopp said. She bit her lip and he moved forward, losing the privacy of a well placed pillow and held out a hand. “You.” he said again. This time not the end of a sentence, but a choice. She moved closer, shaking, but braved a hand out.

“...Are you sure?” Her voice was tiny, “In the world of women there are better options, ones that don't grow beards, and have tits, and-” He pulled her in, placing her center of the bed, in a nest of pillows and kissed her. Kissed her cheeks, her jaw, down her neck and chest. Before hovering over her, looking int her eyes, and brushed away the last tear, and let his palm cup her cheek, angling her just right.

“You.”

…

_ ‘Your just a heartless prick.’ _

_ ‘Is that what I am tonight?’ the cigarette was ashed, his shadows projecting onto the wall for Zoro to see. _

_ ‘Fuck Sanji…’ Zoro shook his head. ‘You just really don't care anymore. I don't even have to ask. You're out of love with me.’ _

_ ‘There you go again.’ the shadow danced and fresh smoke filled the room. ‘Jumping to conclusions.’ _

_ ‘You know what!’ Zoro roared, grabbing a bag _

_ ‘Let me guess-’ _

Zoro’s alarm sounded. He slapped it silent, and shivered. His blanket was too thin, and he had a cold sweat. He threw the drenched blanket aside and rubbed his eyes as he sat up. Humpday was living up to its name right from the start today. He grumbled and made for the shower. 

And from that point Zoro found himself unable to get warm. Kuina had used all the hot water, leaving Zoro the ice in the middle of winter, which was fine, because she had also made breakfast. Though she was up at four, and he was up at half past seven, so it was cold on the table.

He had managed to donate Sanji coat, but hadnt yet gotten a new one, and the uber to work was little time to warm from the chill. But what was he, if he couldn't at least trudge on. Bitter and mean about all of it right back at nature who hurled her fury. What had Kuina written, beauty is nothing on a bitch? Something like that. 

To top it off, he was later than usual. Cheaper ride and all. The guy had seemed pleasant, little to conversative. But he was here now, in the promised warmth of Sunny, and damn Kalifa, the thermostat was at sixty-eight. Half the staff were islanders! Itd take him hours to thaw. He set his folder down at his desk, nodding to Nami. He kept his scarf as he went for the breakroom. It was worth its weight in gold right now for his heat economy.

Sanji and Gin sat at a table, both looking miserably hungover. Zoro quirked a brow. It was Wednesday. Though Nami didnt look hungover. Maybe he had overlooked it. Zoro ignored them, looking for his mug. It wasn't there, nor the sink, he looked at the table.

Gin.

Zoro rolled his eyes, it wouldn't be worth it. He grabbed one of the chipped, basic gray mugs. As he figured, old, and cold. That was disappointing. Not only his last haven from the chill for the day. But he had also hoped that by some chance this would have been the second pot. Sanji’s nine O-clock brew. But no, this was still Robin's sixty-thirty. At least it was strong. He didn't have the extroversion to handle making a pot of coffee in the same room with what was maybe the aftermath of…

That aside he dipped his head at the miserable fools and went to double check before he assumed anything today. 

But Nami was fine. Healthy color. But she was tired… nothing new. He cast a glance at Perona. Exhausted, but bright… a new normal. But today it was just too bright. Hell if he was hungover he’d be hiding from her in the breakroom too. But not even the other new guy was in there.

So then, that meant…

That it was none of his business. He cracked his neck, and focused his mind on the objects on his desk. Folder, purpose, computer, timelines… but Kuina’s manuscript was locked. The five-percenters were doing their magic with the rest now. As for his other Authors… he groaned. He’d been here eleven years. Back then the crew was so small one editor had been able to cross manage if they had the skill set. He had authors on deadlines for releases from February to August, Romance, Ero, Adventure, hell he’ had a Sci-fi war saga in the mix now for seven years. Its popularity was growing, but by single digits. Money sinks most of them.

Every year felt like college. Relearning half the genre each time, and just as he mastered it, the book was locked, and the fine, needle sharp specialty he had just built was useless on the next deadline. He believed in no god, but Hell was very real…

Not that reminding himself of all this helped him in any way. His leg still bounced, his foot stubbornly pointing to the breakroom. He still wondered and still wanted to ask questions…

Funny, this time last year had been the last of his luxury, sending off Kuina’s first book, finger crossed, loving boyfriend at his side. Hope beating out worry as the holiday cheer tried its best to lift his heart from worry.

This year his miracle had come. His sister was home. He’d lost the boyfriend. Now nothing would be able to distract him from the yearly grind except his wild, unwelcome thoughts.

For instance, his mind had pointed out that the last time Sanji had done hungover hump day two weeks in a row, had been when Zoro had been trying for his attention.

Or how good Sanji was at pool.

How drunk and honest he got after a beer or two.

Or how cold he still was. 

Today was not going to be a good day. He was jumping to no conclusions there.

“You want a ride home today?” Nami asked. She was looking at the screen, what she did when she didn't want to show her concern. 

“Could i talk you into taking me to a good coat store?”

“There's one at the mall. You could buy me dinner.” That was some classic Nami. it actually made Zoro smile a little.

“Kuina has been insistent on cooking every meal. How about you join us?” Nami actually met his eyes then. Her concern melted, and she looked… proud. Happy.

“I’d like that.”

Maybe the day was gone, but the night would be good.

“I warn you, she likes to have sake with dinner and she is a lightweight. Last night it ended in a vicious game of battleship.”

…

_ ~Thursday~  _

_ One day until Party _

Six-thirty was far too early for many to be at work. But unlike the CEO, she was punctual. So she opened the building in the mornings. She made the coffee first, and while it brewed she turned the heat on. The first being the one actually effective, and the second would be as good as gone whenever Kalifa showed... After coffee it was email work. Replying to midnight crisis questions. Some authors would be up, others would be taking long, needed naps, and would reply around noon. Her only distraction from the mundane was the coin flip. Romance-one was a problematic table as far as worker relations went. And for all the layers of stories between them, as well as the variable of Perona, she could still foresee what the day had in store, by seeing who got in first.

Zoro first meant a smooth day. Steady, good flow. Generally three cups of coffee.

Nami, the most common, meant productive. Four cups, ferried by interns.

Sanji arrived with thunder clouds if he was first. One cup of tea, a masterfully crafted silver lining to his turmoil. And lunch out on her.

And Perona meant an unproductive day. Five bored cups of coffee, and time for her own wandering mind. Which had been becoming more common. It seemed Perona was lazy when she was happy. A vexing position for a boss and friend.

And today the door opened at Seven-o-six. With a surprise. Marco was the first in. She didn't know what to think about that. Aside from one time when Luffy had gotten in before her, or Kalifa’s inventory days, no one beside Romance-one had ever shown up second.

She wondered what kind of day he would bring. She needed a refill then anyways.

“Good Morning Chief.” He said, well awake. No, not with those bags. Chipper despite exhaustion. He really was putting his best face forward.

“Are you sure you don't mean goodnight?” 

“That obvious?” he offered the pot, and she leaned her cup out.

“I’m afraid to ask if you got any at all.” She admitted.

“I did not.” Marco nodded, and smiled. “Happy surprise, but,” He shrugged “Gin took his time telling me about it ya know?” Perona came to Robin's mind.

“I do.” Surprises. There were two now today. Still only coincidence. But it was looking likely that this was Marco’s, for lack of a more clever word, theme. “You’re meeting your author again today right, at two?” 

He nodded.

“There’s an air mattress in the supply closet, take the second breakroom, rest at least, sleep if you can.”

“Would that really be okay?”

“The authors deserve a well rested editor's work. So if it helps, you can consider it a job requirement.” she smiled. He cracked a grin, his eyes droopy as he considered his coffee. “Really Marco. You need rest, and you’re new enough most of the work is submission reading, or work your table mates pawned off on you still.”

“Well, I won't put up a fight against mandated napping.” He poured his cup out in the sink. 

“Theres a sign in there to be hung on the door window. Sunny is quite used to employee naps. I promise you won't be bothered.”

“And i promise not to make a habit of this.” He bowed his head as he passed her. Smile in place. A happy surprise, a neutral surprise. So if it was a pattern then she’d see an unhappy surprise next. Her coffee filled and employee taken care of, she went back to her office. Refreshing her emails. Noting that she still hadn't gotten a response from Brook’s manager. She had thought she had done a good job. She’d even okay’d three different invitations, one to the party, one for a private visit, in case he want to avoid detection, and the third, a visit to him with a small professional crew that’d represent Sunny. Luffy had been generous enough to offer to pay for it too.

By now she could count the party out entirely for Brook. And the more she thought about it, the more she realized that he might not want to remember the city. Might not want to come back at all. She had left the third offer open for any date. Three more weeks, and then she’d assume the email had been ignored, or he wasnt interested. Three more weeks before she’d think about retiring, and digging out the old manuscripts.

She’d had _ that _ exit plan in place for years now. Retire on her savings, and become a writer. Nami was aggressive, and trying to push her into retirement early. Robin saw another twenty years. Nami saw two. But that alone was the eagerness of youth. Something Nami had stubbornly held onto for the last ten years. Indeed Nami was the next in. Forecast was set; Productive, be on the lookout for surprises.

Seven-thirty brought nothing.

Eight brought Zoro

By eight-thirty Table one was filled.

And nine brought the surprise. A phone call. She knew it. This would be the printers for sure. Or one of her authors panicking and trying to rewrite the novel... or bailing on the party. She let it ring again, taking a deep breath.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, by any chance have i reached Ms. Nico?” a light voice. She looked out her office blinds, seeing Gin coming in, talking to Marco about something, and then Sanji and the rest of Table one. Perona rose and went to the window.

“This is her. Can i ask who this is?”

“Oh forgive me! My Name is Brook, i was calling in regards to your lovely idea. And well I got a bit carried away. To summarize, i was wondering if you would give me a tour of the building?”

This was it. It was actually happening. She bit her lip and looked at the toy car.

“Of course! When would you like to visit?” she pulled up her calendar app, looking at what she had already planned.

“Forgive me again, but i'm already here. I was coming for the Masquerade and couldn't contain my excitement to meet you all.”

That was… great, shocking, surprising, but great.

“You’re already here? As in, the city?”

“The parking lot, i'm afraid.” She looked back up, seeing more people crowded around the window. 

“I’ll be right down then!” she said with a calm, chipper voice, while she panicked out of her seat and moved for the door. He was here in the parking lot, at nine sharp.

  
  


“Mister Monkey, surely that's too much.” Robin started, watching as Luffy poured two snifters. She didn't even realize he kept whisky in the building. But she should have guessed.

“Please Ms. Nico, Robin…” Brook took the offered whisky. “Feel no need to join us. But this is rather perfect.” Brook said with a large smile. Luffy laughed lightly and reclined in his chair, looking at one of the many pictures on his desk. 

“Well, then…” she paused. Proper procedure here was what? When in Rome? Luffy met her eyes, and she nodded. What the hell. Not like she would have the chance to drink at the party. She lifted her own snifter. Wine was more her style, but there had been an age where she had learned alot about higher end whisky. This was a Makino 20-year. Retailed for ten-thousand a bottle. She had tasted it once before, delightful. But  _ He’d _ spit it out. She swallowed, resisted the urge to shake her to clear her mind. Luffy was making his whisky face, and she was glad he didnt drink often. Brook however passed his sip with minimal controting. 

“I must say I didn't expect to be drinking whisky with the CEO. On such short notice. Surely I'm disrupting something?”

“I assure you, you are not. To be honest I have it too good here. I find myself looking for things to do at my own company.”

Brook laughed, and wiped a tear from his eye, Luffy laughing as well.

“All thanks to Robin i'm sure.”

“Mostly.” Luffy said. “In all honesty I owe it to every member of my staff.” He was looking at the pictures again, and a fond smile on his lips. “Dedication, passion, and effort in the face of everything. That's why I don't have to worry about bottom lines, or profits. Because in all their many forms, my team doesn't quit. they don't let eachother quit.”

“You become acquainted with a certain level of shit-shining in my job. Alot of people telling me wonderful lies. Never have I ever believed it until I saw it. But today i saw it for myself. I can see, and feel the truth of your words. Tell me Luffy, would this change if your Sunny grew?”

“You mean if it became profitable?” Brook dipped his head. “There would be a different CEO, if she’d accept it.” Luffy passed her a glance. Did he mean-? “But she has a heart as big as mine at least.”

“And what would you do?” Robin asked. She had assumed she’d retire. But suddenly she was thinking that maybe she was too young still, sitting next to Brook, who was approaching ninety and still working, for pleasure, rather than money it seemed.

“I’d find another adventure to go on. Maybe I’d start a movie company, and start making movies out of these books already.”

“You are impatient like that.” Robin said, taking another sip of her glass.

“Something of a Sunny Media group?” Brook asked.

“Exactly like that, after all movies have always been one of our goals.” 

Robin saw it. Right there in her mind, for just a split second. Nami was stomping around, script in hand, yelling into a headset. Perona was finishing the actors makeup, a movie set. 

“We should just do it.” the words slipped out. She flushed. Most of her wines were below twenty-five percent. Makino whisky was a one hundred-twenty proof. Sixty percent. Her glass was the lowest. But still she couldn't attribute this to the drink. Nor did she have time to root out the trigger as the men’s eyes came to her, expectantly waiting for more.

The metaphorical cards were on the table now. And mine she hated betting, but it was her idea. She had to own it.

“I have my own small fortune saved up. And it's possible we could pull some talent from our team already. Naturally we would need time to establish the company, get equipment and fill out our talent.” She was rambling now, confidant rambling, but still. “I only have ten million of my own.” she finsihed. Luffy’s brows rose. But he didnt question it. Instead he looked to Brook, brow still up.

“Ten in all around?” Brook asked, raising his glass.

Where was his hesitation, this was just a stupid, off the cuff-

“Thirty million isn't a bad budget.” Luffy had his own glass up, and both sets of eyes came back to her. Eleven fifteen on a thursday. What a origin story.

“To Sunny media then.” she raised her own glass, and clinked it to theirs.

Now what the hell was she going to do?

A/N: Just wanted to leave a special thank you to everyone who have kudo'd and commented. i was really struggling with getting the words out, but you all helped me push through the writers block and finish this chapter! 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey everybody! thanks for reading my new fic. this is a slow burn on most romances that i will include, the main pairins are with Robin, Nami and Zoro, and their other halves. but if you have more pairing ideas, shout them out and i just might fill out my extra editing teams to make it happen! again thank you so much for reading, and look forward for more!


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